Hermione's Death
by Rowan Arkenson
Summary: Harry knows what he must do, but it's hard, especially when love is involved... and when the person who could help him most is gone. abandoned
1. PART ONE: DISCOVERY Raindrops

Hermione's Death

PART ONE – DISCOVERY

Summary: Hermione died saving Harry's life in the face of Voldemort.He and Ron feel empty and alone, especially as Hermoine was Harry's girlfriend.Everything he does reminds him of her.And Voldemort's getting stronger every day...r&r please!

Disclaimer: I own only a few characters, I don't own the setting or anything like that. Most of this story (most, not all!) is down to that genius JK Rowling. Please, read on, and enjoy…oh, and review. All constructive criticisms very welcome. But please, no flames.

Author's Note: I have decided to do two parts to this story, the first part called "Discovery", the second called "The Fight". Please, read on and enjoy. This is hopefully going to be quite a long story, so bear with me! AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!   ~rowan xxxxxxxx 

The stars twinkled and Harry shot up in bed, breathing heavily. He'd had another bad dream. He breathed out deeply and lay down again, alone with his thoughts. Thunder stormed outside and Harry stared at his window. Rain dripped down it tapping loudly. Harry glanced round; worried it would wake everyone up. He'd forgotten it was the dead of night and rain was very quiet. The sound of it, though, seemed multiplied to him. After his nightmare, everything seemed so much louder.

          Harry snuggled up in his bed and pulled the bedclothes closer to him. He shut his eyes tight, desperately wishing the monsters would just go away. Why wouldn't they leave him in peace? Why couldn't they just go and not come back…why pick on him?

          Then Harry's eyes shot open again. "What? Who's there?" Harry looked around his enlarged room, searching for shadows in the darkness. He was sure he had heard a noise. There it was again! I little scurrying noise coming from outside his room. Harry looked around him, but no one else had heard it. Ron was closest to him, and indeed, closest to the door, but he was tucked up warm and cosy, and didn't look like a thing in the world would wake him.

          Harry smiled to himself at Ron's snoring, then tore his eyes away to face the door. He lifted the covers up away from him and swung his legs out of bed slowly. Cautiously, he made his way to the door and placed his hand around the doorknob, looking at it carefully. He didn't know why, but he thought that maybe it would be hot. Like in his old school, when they used to teach him what to do in case of a fire.

          He took in a deep breath and, staring intensely at the wood of the door, opened it up quickly. Air blew past him; but nothing more. Harry frowned and walked cautiously down the stairs that started outside his room. Down in the common room, he looked around for signs of a break-in, but there was nothing. Except an open window…

          Harry frowned and walked over to it. He placed his hands on the ledge and peered down at the ground below him. He was pretty far up, and the window was so small, he doubted anyone would fit through it anyway. Harry shut the window, locked it, and walked over to the fire. He sat down in a comfy armchair and slumped into it sighing. He had gotten so paranoid recently. Especially since seeing Voldemort again last year… Harry felt a sudden shiver run down his spine and tried to shrug it off. Harry looked at the fireplace, got his wand out and set it alight. He hadn't told anyone, but he had learned how to light fire without speaking. He merely had to point his wand at it, think, "Fire", and it would light itself.

          Why didn't he tell anyone? Because he knew what people would say. They'd be worried. And they'd annoy him. He was famous enough as it was; he didn't need any more popularity. He didn't need any more attention. And if Voldemort found out…

          Harry shivered again involuntarily and was suddenly glad of the warmth in the fire before him. He rubbed his hands together near it and gathered his thoughts. Yes…if Voldemort ever found out about his newly found power with fire, he'd certainly be interested. He'd want Harry to join the dark side even more strongly than he ever had wanted it before.

          But Harry knew he would never join the dark side. In his opinion, there were too many beautiful things in his world to screw them up. To fight over it and have it all…that would be selfish. Sometimes, things were better shared.

          The year before Harry had, again, met with Voldemort on one of his yearly trips to try to destroy him. They had fought together and so had Ron and Hermione… Harry gulped as tears rose up to his eyes. He thought of blinking them away, then stopped. No one was there. And so Harry let the tears fall for his friend Hermione… The one who had died to save him…


	2. The Traditional Kiss

Ron walked down the stairs wearily and yawned once, twice. He had slept well the previous night, but was still very tired. He hadn't slept all week and felt exhausted. Ron hadn't seen Harry, Neville, Seamus or Dean in the dorm, so he assumed they were all up already, having breakfast.

          As he walked down the stairs to the common room, he stopped as his eyes fell on Harry. His best friend was slumped in a chair in front of the fire…which was lit. Ron frowned. Harry knew the rules; no one was allowed to light the fire on their own, not even Head Boy. It was dangerous.

          Ron walked over to Harry and looked at him intently. His arms were folded up against him, like he was trying to use them as comfort, and he had small bags around his closed eyes. Ron bit his lip. Harry had been through so much. So had he. But obviously, through Harry's bravery and strength, he had been doing better than his best friend had without realising it.

          Ron wondered why others had walked through here and past him without waking him. Maybe they had, but he'd simply fallen asleep again. Or maybe they hadn't noticed him. Or maybe, they decided he deserved the sleep and didn't want to disturb him.

          Which was exactly what Ron was feeling now. But…he glanced at his watch…it was 8:53. There was a Quidditch match, which was supposed to be starting in 7 minutes. But how could they start without their captain? Ron was a chaser, he needed to be there too, but Harry was the captain and the seeker – if they didn't have him they'd have to forfeit the match.

          Finally deciding what to do, Ron reached a hand out to Harry's shoulder and gently shook it. "Harry?" Ron whispered. Then, seeing no reaction to this, he spoke a bit louder. "Harry? Wake up Harry, you lazy git…" Harry stirred. His eyes fluttered open and gazed at Ron meaninglessly. He frowned at him a moment and Ron did the best he could to grin. "It's me Harry; Ron. Come on, wake up, you've got a Quidditch match this morning, remember?"

          Ron knew that at any mention of Quidditch, Harry would be alert wherever and whenever he was. It was useful for getting his attention when he was daydreaming in class. The professors had begun to realise that, and so it was quiet funny for the rest of the class when a teacher would pause momentarily in the middle of a lesson, noticing Harry's gaze out of a nearby window, to shout "Quidditch!"

          Harry's eyes shot open, and Ron smiled as he checked his watch quickly. "Shit, Ron! Why didn't you wake me earlier?!"

          "I've only just woken up as well!" Ron protested. He grinned. "It's Saturday morning; you're the early bird, not me. _You're supposed to wake __me up."_

          Harry sprung up and unconsciously felt his neck under his T-shirt for something. Feeling the necklace Hermione had given him, he jumped up and ran up to his dormitory, pulled some jeans on, got his Quidditch robes, and ran out of the common room with Ron, down to the field.

          Down in the changing rooms, Harry's team looked at him worriedly. Though they tried not to give him any special attention, as by his request, they couldn't help but worry. Any normal person would worry if their friend's long-time best friend and short-time girlfriend had just died saving him.

          Harry picked up his broom and ran his hand along the wood nervously. His first Quidditch match without Hermione. He remembered the times when they'd won; he'd fly down low to where Hermione was standing, and he would settle there just for a moment to give her a quick kiss, then would zoom back up again to his team mates. It was almost like a tradition.

          Harry's team mates surrounded him right now; they included Ron, two fifth year girls called Lesley Barren and Jenny Wourts as chasers, a young third year called Genevieve Johnstone as keeper, and a fifth year boy and a sixth year girl called Kial Johnstone and Megan Smith to replace the famous Fred and George Weasley as beaters (Fred and George Weasley were twins, who were famous at knocking the stuffing out of the opposite team; but they had left the previous year to open up their own joke shop called "Weasley Weasels").

          Everyone waited patiently for Harry's traditional speech that he always gave at the start of the first Quidditch matches of each of the seasons. Nothing happened. Harry glanced at everyone, and sighed. "You know the drill," was all he said, before leaving his astonished team mates behind to half walk, and half fly, out onto the field.

          Harry flew around a bit to warm up, then finally settled at the top above everyone, where he had a picture-perfect view of everyone and everything. Draco Malfoy, for who knew what reason, but probably by his dad's hand, was the opposing seeker; the Slytherin seeker. He flew past Harry quickly and sped round fast, showing off, before stopping mid-air opposite Harry, a few metres away. Malfoy smiled evilly. Even after what had just happened, he could still feel no sympathy for his enemy. "Ready to lose or do you wanna give up now, Potter?"

          "Eat shit, Malfoy," said Harry, barely bothering to show any emotion at all. "I'm in no mood today."

          "I hope you don't think I'm gonna go easy on you, just because…of…you know…of what happened," Malfoy eased out somewhat uncomfortably.

          Harry smiled seriously. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

          Harry was faintly aware of a whistle blowing, and realised the game had started, and Ron was speeding towards the hoops holding the quaffle firmly under one arm. He sped towards the hoops, and the first goal was won. Harry smiled. It was Ron's own target. Whether they won or lost, he always liked to have scored the first goal on his own. 

          "Harry, watch out!" It was Megan who had shouted. Harry turned and ducked just before a bludger knocked him out. Now that would've been disastrous. He looked over at two guys called Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the Slytherin beaters. They grinned at him mischievously, and Harry smiled back. They looked at each, confused, then simply flew away. Harry shook his head. What dodos!

          Harry sighed and guessed it was time to look for the snitch. He had kind of been hoping for a quick game, and only the catch of the snitch could do that. And he didn't want to just let the other team win – it would be admitting defeat. He knew Hermione wouldn't have wanted him to do that.

          So Harry flew and twirled around the stadium, hearing the sounds of cheers below from his fellow Griffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. A few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs of course favoured Slytherin, but that was because before, Slytherin had always won the House Cup, which was played for at the end of the year. But since Harry and a few others had come along in their first year at Hogwarts and had made the Griffindor team invincible, some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had become annoyed, and now wished their own teams or even Slytherin to win instead. It never happened. Griffindor had won every single year apart from Harry's fourth and sixth year when Slytherin had won. In the fourth year, they hadn't had a House Cup played because there was something different which they had that year that was called a "Triwizard Tournament", and the year just before Slytherin had won, simply because of Hermione's death. Harry and the rest of Griffindor and a few others had wanted Dumbledore to cancel because of Hermione's sad and untimely death, but Dumbledore had simply insisted that "the show must go on". So everyone was too depressed to care, and Slytherin had taken the snitch and won.

          Thinking hard about the words Dumbledore had uttered, Harry flew with a strong sense of longing as he scanned around the stadium for the tiny, golden, winged ball. He had to win. He'd let his time down the previous year. Even though they had all suffered, the rest had carried on bravely, listening to Dumbledore's words. It was Harry's depressed state which had lost them the cup.

          Something sparkly flew straight passed Harry's eyes in a daze, and Harry immediately followed the fast darting snitch down to the ground. Unfortunately, Malfoy had seen Harry's quick dive and had followed. But Harry's broom was faster – he had a Firebolt 3000, and Malfoy only had a Firebolt 1000.

          Harry got closer and closer to the snitch. It was a darty little bugger, but with all of Harry's experience, being on the team for seven years had brought him skill to know exactly where the snitch would dart in the next two seconds. Which was very handy when you were centimetres away from it.

          Harry reached out his hand to the place he knew it would go, and snatched it quickly and firmly, closing up his hand. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and shouted to confirm the fact that the match was over, and that Griffindor had won 190 – 20. Harry sped back up into the air and everyone around him whooped and cheered. Without meaning to, Harry glanced over at the familiar place where Hermione had always sat with Lavender and Parvati, anticipating the end, where she would hopefully receive her kiss.

          He looked away in pain and stared down at the snitch in his hand. The golden wings fluttered up at him happily. Tears began to swell up in Harry's eyes and pain returned to his heart. _An empty defeat, he thought. __An empty defeat._

          "Yeah!" shouted Ron. "We won, we're the best, go us!" He banged butterbeers with Dean and they drunk it down. Everyone was in the common room, celebrating Griffindor's success in the first match of the year.

          Harry sat in a corner feeling morbid and depressed. He could see out of the corner of his eye two girls whispering and looking at him. One pushed the other forward, and the one who had been pushed somewhat reluctantly walked over to where Harry was sat. He groaned. He hoped he wasn't going to get any more sympathy. All he needed right now was a friend.

          He looked up at the figure standing above him. It was Lavender. They smiled at each other in acknowledgement, and Lavender took the seat next to Harry. "Great game!" she said grinning.

          Harry smiled. "Yeah, it was. Over a bit quick though."

          "Thanks to you!" Lavender laughed. "I don't know about you, but I don't like to stand outside in the cold for too long in the middle of September!"

          Harry tried hard to forget about Hermione and grinned weakly. "Good point! I never notice the cold when I'm up in the air though."

          "Really?" asked Lavender, sounding genuinely fascinated. "But the cold air whips past you like a bullet-" (Harry loved the way Lavender related things to her muggle life at home), "-shouldn't you be colder than we are down in the stands?"

          "Not really," Harry explained. "Well, maybe I should be, but I need to concentrate, so I always try to block out the pain…" he stopped abruptly. He remembered the pain of missing Hermione at the end of the game that day. He knew he would never be able to block that pain out – whatever he did.

          Lavender noticed the change in Harry's expression, and bit her lip. Harry tried to continue, but no words came out. He gave up and rested his head in a hand, breathing heavily, trying desperately hard not to cry.

          "Want me to get Ron?" Lavender whispered, and Harry nodded, squeezing his eyes together tightly, in hope to get rid of Hermione in his head. But closing his eyes probably made it worse.

          He opened them to a crouched Ron, looking up in his eyes. The room was still noisy, and people were clattering drinks together and laughing about nothing in particular. "You all right, mate?" Ron asked.

          Harry shook his head. "No. Can we go somewhere else? I'm getting a head-ache from all this noise."   Ron nodded and stood up, helping Harry to stand by taking him by the arm and pulling. They left the room quickly, trying not to get any unwanted attention. But there were two caring brown eyes which followed them out all the way, not leaving Harry's face until he had gone.

          Ron and Harry walked straight to Hagrid's hut. They had started to go there more recently since Hermione's death. Harry thought of it as kind of…his sanctuary. A warm loving place away from all the chaos back in the castle, and Hagrid was actually very wise, once you got used to his strange way of telling you things.

          "I miss her so much," Harry breathed out, as he and Ron walked, almost in silence.

          Ron sighed and patted Harry on the back. "I know. So do I. She was a great girl." He glanced at Harry's pained expression, and added, "She really loved you."

          Harry closed his eyes, left them shut for a while, but then opened them again, breathing out heavily. "Thanks," was all he could say.

          They rapped on Hagrid's door softly, and instantly heard a barking noise. Harry and Ron could hear Fang's happy scratching on the door, and as soon as Hagrid opened it he leapt out, licking first Ron's face then Harry's. The two boys smiled and scratched Fang behind his ears. "Good boy," said Ron, ushering the over-excited dog back into the hut. Harry smiled after him as he closed the door from inside the hut. Fang was a very old dog. In fact, Harry reckoned that he should have been dead for quite a few years. But he had never mentioned his suspicions to Hagrid's face.

          "'Ello, 'arry; Ron. I 'aint seen you two fer a while." Hagrid smiled and turned his back on them to fiddle with something on his stove. Harry loved Hagrid's strange accent.

          "How are you Hagrid?" Harry asked, sitting down and welcoming the warmth of the nearby fire.

          "Don't ya think I should be askin' you that?" Hagrid put down two mugs of coffee on the little table in front of Harry and Ron.

          Harry said nothing and simply sipped on his coffee, staring at the table, pretending he hadn't heard Hagrid. Ron glanced at his friend, then gave Hagrid a meaningful look. Hagrid nodded understanding, and sat down opposite them.

          "Crackin' game t'day, lads," Hagrid said, tactfully changing the subject to one of Harry's favourites: Quidditch.

          Ron nodded. "I got the first goal in!" He said smiling.

          "Don't yeh always?" Hagrid said laughing. He glanced towards Harry, who was still sipping and staring into space.

          " 'arry?"

          Nothing.

          " 'arry?"

          This time Harry looked up. "What? Sorry, Hagrid, what were you saying?"

          Hagrid smiled and shook his head softly. "It don' matter."

          Harry sighed. "Sorry. I just can't stop thinking about her."

          No one in that hut had to ask who the 'her' was. Everyone felt exactly the same. Even Fang sidled up to Harry and licked his face, trying to cheer him up. Hagrid looked deep into Harry's eyes. "I know, I know. But it will pass. Trust me."

          "I'll never forget about her!"

          "No, no, I doubt that'll ever 'appen, 'arry," Hagrid said truly, agreeing. "But the pain. That'll stop. Jus' give it time."

          Harry nodded and stared down at his cup. It was empty. And so was he. Ron, seeing Harry's look, stood up. "We'd better be getting back," he said. Harry stood. "Thanks for the coffee, Hagrid."

          Hagrid nodded and he too stood up. As Harry walked past Hagrid to leave out of the door, he did something, which he hadn't done in years. He turned to Hagrid and hugged him. Hagrid held him tightly and patted his head. Harry had grown quite a bit since his first few years, but Hagrid was still a giant to him. He pulled away and looked at Hagrid thankfully. No one words passed between the two, and Harry left, running to catch up with Ron. Hagrid watched the two walking up to the castle together, side by side, and he smiled.


	3. Dangerous Emotions

Severus Snape stared at the little group before him smugly. "Good morning class," he said with a hint of danger to his voice. The first Quidditch match had been really early that year, and so this was the class' first potions lesson, and Snape, their professor, was feeling particularly happy. Over the summer he had set the class a homework task to actually _make a potion. Since there was still the law on young witches and wizards preventing them from doing any magic outside school, Dumbledore and Percy Weasley, new head of the Department of Youngsters in the Ministry, had given Snape special permission to set the task. Each had all the right equipment, and all of their parents __knew about their kids' magic abilities, so Snape saw no reason why anyone shouldn't have a cauldron in front of them on their desks._

          The class mumbled a reply back ("Morning professor"), and stared glumly at their cauldrons. They were all absolutely certain that they'd failed. Even Malfoy looked slightly worried. Only slightly though. He was Snape's favourite after all.

          "As you should remember," Snape began, "I set you a task to do over the summer holidays to brew a potion. This potion, as you should remember," (Snape had little faith in his students), "is a potion which has the ability to turn a person into any animal when they drink it and back again when they have another sip. If they can do so as animals." Snape chuckled at his own little joke. A few Slytherins smiled. "As I said, you can chose any animal, as long as you get a hair, or toenail, or beak or something distinctive about that animal from that animal." Snape said these last words very slowly, as if shouting at his pupils that they were thick and he wouldn't expect many of them to pass this.

          He began to walk along the front row of the class at which many Slytherins sat. As he approached each person, he asked him or her to drink their own potion. The first, a girl called Pansy Parkinson, drunk hers and turned into a fluffy rabbit. Snape nodded, wrote something down and gave the rabbit a drink. Pansy Parkinson sat there again, looking dazed.

          As each person got turned into their animal and back again, a queasy feeling fell into the pit of Harry's stomach. He hadn't done his. He glanced over at Ron, who was sitting to the right of him. Ron raised his eyebrows when he looked at the expression on Harry's face, then noticed he didn't have a cauldron in front of him. His eyebrows lowered into a frown and he looked away.

          Ron looked exactly how Harry felt. _Worried. Harry looked up suddenly to see Snape's figure above him. He was examining Neville's potion (even Neville had done it) who was sitting to the left of Harry. Harry put his head in his hands. He knew why he hadn't done it, and he didn't care. But he knew that this was a big assignment, and Griffindor would care very much if they had loads of points taken off because of it. _

Snape shook his head at the disgusting pink fluffy toad that was sitting before him, and gave Neville another sip. Neville popped back into his seat and looked like he was about to cry. He knew he had failed.

The professor took one fatal step to his left, and fell upon Harry. He simply stared for a while at Harry's desk, then rose his face to meet Harry's. A cruel smile creeped its way across Snape's face. "Well, Mr. Potter? Your potion please."

Snape knew Harry hadn't done it, and what was worse, was that Harry knew that. Snape was saying this to put Harry through the embarrassing task of actually having to admit he hadn't done it, which would almost definitely lead to an argument leading to many, _many, points being taken off of Griffindor. _

"I haven't got it, sir," Harry said in a normal tone. He seriously, right down to the bottom of his aching heart, didn't care.

"And why not?" Snape said, putting Harry through his paces.

"Sorry, sir, but I just didn't do it," replied a casual Harry. He could feel Ron's worried stare on his face, and he felt a kick under the table, warning him.

Snape's smile grew cold. "Why not, Potter? Everyone else in the class managed it. Are you so stupid that you didn't copy down the instructions correctly?" A few Slytherins sniggered at this.

"No sir, I copied the recipe down correctly, I just didn't do it." Harry shrugged. "Sorry sir, but why don't you look at Ron's now? You've got to admit this conversation is getting a bit boring."

Everyone (even the Slytherins, _especially the Slytherins) gasped loudly at this. They knew Harry was a bit of a troublemaker, like most people at Hogwarts, but he was __HEAD-BOY. Wasn't he supposed to be the one they all looked up to? The one with all the responsibilities and everything?_

Snape's face glared angrily at Harry. No, his expression had gone beyond anger. He was furious. "Harry Potter, you will not speak to me like that ever again!" he yelled. Harry didn't flinch. "20 points will be taken from Griffindor," Ron kicked Harry under the table again, "and there'll be more taken if you don't show up at the detention I'm setting you to do this work!" Snape cooled down a bit, and there was such silence in the dungeon, that everyone could hear a rat scurrying in the wall. They were all waiting for Harry's reaction. Even the rat had stopped scurrying, probably to listen.

Harry breathed deeply. But Snape continued. "You are a useless, worthless little boy," he whispered. "I hope you don't still think you're 'special'," Harry grinned to himself at his secret knowledge of his fire trick. "Because you're not. And don't think that just because you're little friend _died," Snape practically spat the word out, "it means I'm going to act any different on you, because I'm not."_

Harry was wreathing in anger by now. He was so angry his fists were clenched tightly under the table and had turned white. He was shaking in anger all over. Slowly he stood up and looked Snape straight in the eye (they were roughly the same height). "Ok."

Snape looked confused, then realising he'd fallen into Harry's trap, frowned again. "If that's how it's gotta be," continued Harry, "then that's the way it's gonna be."

"Go to the Headmaster's office!" Snape yelled, pointing at the dungeon door.

Harry grabbed his bag and walked steadily over to the door, not bothering to argue. He left his notes from the lesson on his desk, knowing he wouldn't need them ever again.

Harry lay on his bed shaking and crying. He was holding a picture of Hermione in his hand, and she kept waving and smiling at him, twirling around.

Oh Hermione, why did you go? Why…it should've been me who died that day, not you…it was me Voldemort wanted. It's all my fault… It's all my fault…

Harry dug his head into his pillow and cried and cried and cried. He didn't think he'd ever stop. He hadn't cried for Hermione since the day she died. He'd wanted to be strong for Ron and everyone else. Soon after Hermione's death, he'd been to see her parents, wanting to be the first to tell them. Her mother had cried in his arms, and her father fainted on the ground. When they had partially recovered from the shock, he explained to them about Voldemort. Harry could still feel the push as Hermione fell on him, protecting him from Voldemort's wrath. Harry could still hear Hermione's screams as Voldemort's curse ran through her body instead of his, killing her. He could still see her lying on the ground, reaching out her hand for Harry's. He could still feel the coldness that swept through his hand as he gripped hers furiously, begging her not to die. He could still remember Hermoine's last words as she clung to his hand with every last ounce of strength: "I love you Harry…" 

          "Harry?" A voice sounding like Ron's interrupted Harry's memories and brought him back to reality. His curtains were shut tightly, and Ron's voice had sounded like he was asking permission to be let into Harry's life.

          Harry didn't answer. He lay on his bed silently, waiting for Ron to go away. He didn't. Harry felt the spring of the bed next to him move and a body lie down onto it. He knew Ron was waiting, patiently, for Harry to speak.

          Harry didn't speak. Their beds were close together, so instead, Harry reached a hand out of his curtains, keeping them closed, knowing that Ron's were probably open, and felt a warm friendly grip take it.

          That night, as Harry and Ron ate their spaghetti at the Griffindor table in the Great Hall, Harry could feel a thousand eyes all giving him attention at once. There was little noise, but instead whispers, most likely about what had happened in the dungeons that morning. The only downside of Hogwarts, was that news spread around quickly, and there was nothing you could usually do to stop it.

          Harry had calmed down since his Potions lesson, and decided to ignore the whispers, laughing with Lavender and Parvati about a certain something that some certain somebodies had done to the Slytherins a few days ago. Dean, Seamus and Ron were all grinning stupidly as they were complimented on turning all the seventh year Slytherins' hair bright pink. As Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, he noticed that the seventh years were huddled together at one end of the table, whispering furiously. Probably planning their revenge. Their hair still had a red tinge to them, despite obvious efforts to undo the spell.

          Ron grinned at his mate as he watched Harry laughing, no worries. But then he remembered Harry's white fists and suddenly felt a little scared. Harry was dangerous when he was angry. Everyone knew that Harry was the best, even if Harry hadn't quite realised it himself yet. He _was special, contradicting what Snape had said, and Snape knew it as well, and it angered him. But Ron was worried; Harry was a brilliant wizard, which was why he was Head Boy, but he didn't know. He needed to know. If he didn't he'd never be able to control his pain._

          Ron made a mental note to speak with Dumbledore about it later. Maybe he'd know what to do. Maybe he already realised. Harry's breakdown that morning could have resulted in much worse situations, especially for Snape, but for Harry as well.

          As he and Ron finished up, and just as Ron was beginning to see a new light, Dumbledore strode over to their table. Ron and Harry exchanged worried glances, and Harry rose to meet the Head Master. He knew it was about him, and Dumbledore smiled at this gesture, and turned around, walking away. Harry followed him, and so did all the silent heads in the room.

          Various thoughts sped through Harry's mind as he followed Dumbledore down the corridors leading to his office. One was: will he expel me? Another: I don't care anyway. And the last: what would Hermione say if she were here right now? Harry shook his head in shame. There had been no need for him to speak to Snape like that. If he remembered; his own father had saved Snape's life. Therefore he couldn't be _all bad. But the reason Harry hadn't done the potion was simple: he'd been meaning to go over Hermione's for a bit in the summer so that she could help him with it; his uncle, Vernon Dursley, was furious with the fact that Harry had found out he was a wizard those seven years ago, and had tried to refuse to let him go to Hogwarts; so he wouldn't have let Harry do the potion in his house. That was why Harry hadn't done it; because his girlfriend who was supposed to have helped him with it died. Simple._

          As Harry gathered these whirling thoughts together in his mind, he realised that Dumbledore had already uttered the password to his office, and was already climbing the stairs that appeared in front of them. Harry walked up after him, not sure whether he should be feeling sad, angry, or scared.

          Dumbledore went into his office and waited for Harry to pass through the door before he shut it firmly behind them. Without speaking (no one had spoke so far), Dumbledore motioned Harry towards a chair in front of the desk. Harry sat on it. Still no one said anything. Dumbledore walked behind his desk and sat on the broad oak chair that sat there.

          Harry didn't look at Dumbledore. He simply looked at a bookcase to his side. Thinking. Dumbledore also seemed to be thinking about something. **_Maybe about how to break the news to me that I have to be expelled__, Harry thought, expressionless. He still hadn't decided yet whether it really mattered or not. But Hogwarts had been like a home to him. No; it __was his home. He just went somewhere every summer as a punishment away from home. Like obedience school or something._**

          Harry decided he should speak first. Maybe Dumbledore hadn't decided yet. So Harry, without turning to face Dumbledore, still with little expression in his face or tone, said in a steady voice: "Sorry, sir." Dumbledore said nothing, just continued to stare at Harry. Harry was too scared to face Dumbledore; by doing so, he would have to look into the Head Masters eyes, and he really didn't want to see disappointment in them.

          "Maybe I should've done the potion," Harry said aloud, more to himself than to Dumbledore. "It was an easy one after all. I could've done it on my own easily. Vernon and Petunia wouldn't have had to know. I could have done it at night or something. But, Hermione…" Harry stopped, chewing over his words carefully, making sure what he said didn't make him cry. That was the last thing he needed; to break down in front of Dumbledore. "She always helped me with things. Se was always there for me when I needed her help. But, when she needed my help…" Harry stopped again. He could've saved Hermione. He didn't. And now it was too late. Harry rested his head on one hand.

          There was a moment's silence, before Dumbledore finally spoke. "Harry," he started. "In the past, I chose to ignore a few things you should not have done. Maybe even things you should have been expelled for." Harry gulped. "Because I know that you are a good wizard, Harry. In all the ways one can be. In the brain, and in the heart." Dumbledore paused, and Harry finally turned to look at him. He was surprised to see nothing in Dumbledore's eyes. They weren't twinkling at him, but they weren't reigning in disappointment or flaring in anger either. Dumbledore continued. "Harry, you are Head Boy. You are what the rest of the school look up to. The Head Girl, Rebekah Pigsneth, has been a great example of this.

          "Harry, we all know what you've been through. The rest of the school is in sorrow for Hermione's untimely and unfair death as well; but I did not realise that maybe your heart would go through so much pain." Harry was a little surprised at these words. Dumbledore breathed deeply. "You have to learn to control your emotions, Harry. They are part of what makes you a great wizard. But you need to learn to control them, or they could be just as dangerous as they are good."

          Harry was going to speak, but couldn't. He didn't know what to say other than: SO AM I EXPELLED OR NOT? JUST TELL ME! As though reading his mind, Dumbledore smiled wryly. "Harry, I'm not going to expel you. Nor am I going to take away your position of Head Boy. I believe that you are strong; so much stronger than anyone else in this school. Anyone else who had their hearts broken as deeply as yours would surely have not come back to finish their final year. But you came back. You are strong, Harry. And that's good for other people to see and be able to look up to."

          Harry still didn't know what to say. Part of him was utterly relieved, which brought a little smile to his face. But part of him was still too depressed to care, which slowly brought the smile away again. Harry looked up at Dumbledore's face and felt there was more, and so he waited patiently. 

          "Harry…" Dumbledore started slowly, but then he shook his head. Dumbledore rose to his feet and so did Harry. Without speaking, Harry turned and left; worried in the silence that floated around Dumbledore that there was something he wasn't telling him.

          Harry walked into the common room, and about ten people swamped him. "Well? Are you expelled?" asked Lavender, biting her lip. Harry looked at all the worried faces and sighed, shaking his head and looking down.

          "Dude…" started Ron. "I can't believe…" He stopped suddenly. There was a slight twitch to Harry's mouth. Suddenly Harry's lips broke out into a grin. "Harry!" Ron punched him on the shoulder. "Don't do that. We all thought you'd be expelled for sure! You've never done anything this bad before!"

          "What did Dumbledore say?" asked Lavender, frowning. "I mean, we all know you're his favourite," Harry blushed slightly, "but…you should've been expelled! Someone like Malfoy would've been."

          "Lavender, why are you worrying? We should be celebrating! Our Head Boy's staying after all!" Ron grinned and led Harry over to a table with bottles of butterbeer on it. "It was either going to be a farewell party or a celebration party," Ron explained, as he led Harry over with one hand on his back.

          "I'll tell you later," Harry whispered into Lavender's ear as he passed her. Lavender nodded and took a butterbeer.

A/N: ok, any sad losers out there who says male best friend cant hold hands in times of need, just go away, ok?!!! r&r plz

~rowan

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	4. Help

**"Wow," said Lavender. Harry had just finished telling her about what Dumbledore had said. Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He knew that Dumbledore liked him, but he didn't exactly like bragging about it. Lavender noticed this, and decided to say something. "He's right you know. You are strong."**

**          Harry looked at her. "Am I?" he sunk down in his chair. It was late, and everyone else was in their beds. "I don't know. I think Dumbledore's only saying that to try and make me feel good."**

**          "Harry, if that's what he was doing, he would have expelled you, and you know it." Harry looked away. Maybe she was right. "You are strong, so much stronger than the rest of us. You're a great wizard," Lavender put her hand on his arm, "and you need to stay here. Stay here, pass your NEWTS, and…"**

**          Lavender frowned suddenly and sat back. "Harry, what are you going to do when you've left Hogwarts?" Harry smiled wryly. Most people knew not to ask him that question. But he'd never been that close to Lavender; he'd just assumed that Hermione had told her.**

**          "Well," he started. "Me and Hermione were going to set up, like, our own school. You know, a new one. There only are three schools like this one in the country. I was going to be in charge of building it, and she was going to be in charge of the money aspect." Lavender bit her lip, but Harry just shrugged. "Don't worry, it's ok. It was a stupid dream anyway. We'd never have managed it…"**

**          "I think you would have." Lavender smiled kindly, and Harry returned it.**

**          "But I don't want to do that now. People are always going on about how I need to move on and all that. So, basically…I have no idea!" Harry laughed, but Lavender stayed silent. "What about you?"**

**          Lavender smiled. "I don't know either. All I know is, I love divination, so I might become a divinator, or maybe I'll get a job teaching it or something." Harry grinned. He hated Divination, but most people seemed fascinated by it. Hermione had hated it as well. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he hated it. Because of Hermione.**

**          "I need to forget," Harry whispered. "No, not forget. Just…move on…"**

**          Lavender frowned. "What was that?" she asked. Harry didn't answer. **

**He shook his head. "Nothing, it doesn't matter."**

**"Right, well, I'm going to bed then." Lavender got up and stretched, realising it was the end of their conversation. "You coming?"**

**Harry stayed in his chair. "No, I think I'll stay down here. Goodnight, Lavender."**

**"See you tomorrow, Harry. Don't stay up too late." Lavender walked passed and climbed the staircase to her dormitory.**

**          Harry frowned and looked towards the fireplace. He needed to let Hermione go. He had loved her, and still did love her, more than anything. But he needed to move on. What would Hermione think if she saw the state Harry was in now she was gone? She'd be angry. Harry smiled to himself. Hermione had never let Harry worry about her. Never. She'd always said that Harry had his own problems to worry about. But their problems had always been the same ones…**

**          Harry shivered. It was cold. He looked at the fireplace and suddenly wished it was on. …Oh, it was. Harry sat up straight and frowned. Fire was licking away at the walls of the fireplace. But, it hadn't been there a moment ago, had it? Harry got out his wand and stared at it. He hadn't used his wand. He'd just…looked, at the fireplace, and thought of fire, and then it was there. Harry stood up slowly. He concentrated on the fire, and in his mind, thought, _make the fire go out. Suddenly, the fire was gone. Just like that._**

**          Harry looked down at his wand, and back at the fireplace. A smile creeped along his face. Wow.**

**          It was time for a test. Harry had wondered for ages, ever since he'd found out about this thing he could do with fire, if he could do it with anything else. Not just fire. Harry scanned the room quickly, wondering what he could do. He needed something small to try. Then he spotted a chess board across the room, lying left-open on a table. The chess pieces were scattered randomly across it. Harry fixated on the white queen, and, without pointing at it or anything, thought, _come to me. The white queen flew across the room and hit Harry in the eyes._**

**          "Ow!" Harry exclaimed, a hand instinctively flying to his eye. The chess piece dropped to the floor. Harry looked anxiously at the dormitories, hoping he hadn't woken anyone up. Then slowly, his gaze turned to the chess piece lying on the ground. Two words came to his mind that he didn't often say: _Holy Shit._**

****

****

****

****

******"Harry what is your ambition for life?" Harry blinked. "What are you going to do once you've left here?" Dumbledore beamed down on him, his eyes twinkling through his half-moon spectacles.**

**          Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Sirius interrupted him. "He's gonna be a famous Quidditch player, aren't you, Harry? You know you'd be good." Harry blinked again to find all six players of his team looking at him in admiration, expectantly.**

**          "Well…" Harry began, but Dumbledore interrupted him this time.**

**          "No, no, he's going to teach here, at Hogwarts. Like me." Dumbledore smiled.**

**          Hermione tapped Harry on the back, and he whirled round. "Hermione…" he breathed.**

**          Hermione gave him an irresistible look like that of a six year old. "Come on, Harry, finish my dream for me…a new wizards and witches school, where we…well…you, can control everything. And where elves have full pay," she added severely.**

**          Harry frowned. "But…"**

**          "Harry! I thought you said we could help my brothers in their new business!" said Ron, coming up from the side. "You know, help out in the Weasley Weasles."**

**          "When did I agree to…" Harry started, but suddenly, another ghost came out through the fog, followed by another behind it. The whole place fell silent, as if in respect.**

**          "Mum…" Harry started. He looked behind her. "Dad! How…how is this possible?"**

**          "Harry…" Lily Evans came forward, and reached her hand out to touch Harry's cheek, but it simply went through it. She took it away sadly.**

**          Harry was in awe. He couldn't believe it. He hadn't seen his parents for seven years, and then he'd only seen them in a mirror of desires. If you didn't include that, he hadn't seen them for sixteen years; since they'd fallen to death by the hands of Voldemort, the dark lord.**

**          "Dad…" Harry said again, as his father walked up to him.**

**          "Harry, this is real. Do not think it just a dream. Trust me, this is really happening." Harry and James Potter exchanged smiles. "Harry, my son, do whatever you wish to do. The rest of your life is completely up to you. But know that whatever you do will make us proud." The two Potters hugged each other tightly as they gazed at their son in happiness, and as they slowly vanished.**

**          Harry blinked. Did that just happen? he thought. Then the room was filled with noises of quidditch, schools and shops again. Harry screamed and screamed…**

**          The real Harry shot up in bed sweating. He breathed in heavily, and looked around him. The others were sitting around him on his bed looking worried; Seamus, Dean, Neville and Ron. Harry looked at Ron's face, not really seeing him. Ron raised an eyebrow. "You ok, man?"**

**          "Yeah you were kinda, you know, screaming and stuff," Seamus put in.**

**          Harry bit his lip. "I'm fine," he lied. "Go back to bed, I'm fine. It was just a nightmare, that's all." Harry didn't care about them laughing at him for having a nightmare when he was seventeen; he just wanted them to go. Neville, Seamus and Dean went, but Ron stayed on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed. "Hermione?" he asked quietly.**

**          Harry shook his head. "My parents."**

**          Ron nodded and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. Then he stood up and went back to his own bed.**

**          Harry drew the curtains back and slowly lay down, pulling the bed covers right up to him. He still felt guilty about not telling Ron about his new…powers. Or whatever they were. But he had more important things to think about.**

**          Harry was confused; he hadn't even realised that he was stressed about leaving Hogwarts. But he must have been to have had that dream. Maybe it was just the conversation he had had with Lavender. His parents had said they'd be proud of him whatever he did. He frowned. They also said that it wasn't a dream, it was real. But… they'd said that in the dream.**

**          So…technically… Harry shook his head. It was too late to be thinking about such deep things such as whether dreams were real or not. For now, he decided he'd settle with the thought that his parents were always with him in spirit, and he was sure they were proud of him. And with that happy thought, Harry let his head drop sideways, softly back onto his pillow, and fell fast asleep.**

**          "Potions again. Great. Love those potions," mumbled Ron sarcastically. Harry and Ron both hated potions, but Harry didn't want to go to it more than Ron didn't want to. He knew that Snape was going to make a fool out of him after what had happened the previous day.**

**          Ron glanced at Harry sideways, then focused on the air in front of him again. "He can't do anything to you, you know. He's a teacher – there are rules."**

**          "I know," said Harry normally. "He can't. …But I can."**

**          Ron stopped and looked at Harry. "Maybe we better skip potions today…"**

**          Harry laughed and kept walking. "I'm only joking!"**

**          Ron looked like he was going to protest, but instead gave up and just laughed.**

**          "I may be stupid but I'm not an idiot," Harry said. "I know I was really lucky not to be expelled this time. I'm not going to go off at Snape again if I can help it!" The two walked on the rest of the way in silence, both knowing how bad Harry was at controlling his anger.**

**          Potions went better than Harry had expected. Snape hardly spoke to Harry once or even glance his way throughout the whole lesson. All they had to do was answer some questions from the book (in silence, of course) and they were pretty simple questions. Snape did walk up to Harry momentarily, just to say, "Potter, stay behind at the end. I want to have a word." Harry nodded then gulped. Ron kicked him under the table; a little reminder to say, watch it.**

Half way through the lesson, a very small girl ran in looking flushed. She hadn't even knocked, and soon found herself being stared at by a very angry Snape. Harry smiled. The girl was probably only a first year. She quivered as Snape towered over her. "Yes?" Snape asked raising an eyebrow. "Why are you interrupting my lesson?"

The little girl shook. "D-D-D-…Dumbledore s-sent me…"

Snape sighed. "Yes? And?"

"He…He…"

"Well, spit it out girl, we haven't got all day."

The little girl looked like she was about to cry, but managed to whisper a name: "H-Harry Potter…" she mumbled.

Snape sighed. The little girl thought she needed to explain, and started to say "He…" but Snape cut her off. He glanced sharply in Harry's direction. "Take your things. I'll speak with you later."

Harry breathed out a breath of relief. He and Ron exchanged glances, then Harry stood with his bag and walked over to the door.

          The girl followed him nervously. Harry smiled down at her and suddenly recognised her as a girl named Martha. "You're a Griffindor, right?" The girl nodded. "Isn't your name Martha?" The girl didn't nod this time, she just gasped; she was in awe to be standing next to Harry Potter, let alone having him know her name!

          "I'm H…" Harry was about to introduce himself, but Martha cut in.

          "Oh, I know all about you Harry Potter." Harry smiled. Didn't everybody? "You…you've met with…with…you know who," she whispered the name, "seven times and you're not dead!" Harry laughed. Martha went on. "That's why my mum sent me here. She said this'll be the safest place for me 'in these dark times'. She said with you in this school, I'll have nothing to worry about." Martha smiled up at him adorably.

          Harry smiled, and remembered back to when he was a first year. He was never _that sweet and innocent, was he? Somehow he doubted it. "Yes, well, you've not only got me, but you've got Professor Dumbledore as well. Did you know, he's the only one that…that you-know-who," Harry tried hard not to say Voldemort's name, not wanting to frighten the little girl, "is afraid of?"_

          Martha looked up at him in awe. "Really? Wow."

          Harry walked on the rest of the way in silence. Martha was probably thinking about what he'd said about Dumbledore. Harry made a mental note that he was thought higher of than Dumbledore. Dumbledore was getting very old, though. But there was something in Dumbledore, something that created fear in people's hearts, which Harry thought Dumbledore would always have.

          Harry reached the statue to Dumbledore's office and waved goodbye to Martha. She scuttled off, and Harry stood stupidly, having forgotten the password that Dumbledore had given him and Rebekah, as Head Boy and Girl. Then it came to him. "Fawkes."

          The statue moved to show the familiar staircase leading to Dumbledore's office. Harry climbed them, thinking about how Dumbledore had said he had had to change his sweets passwords because he'd run out of all the ones he'd liked.

          Harry knocked on the door, and heard a shuffle of chairs. He frowned, wondering how many people were in there, and what glory it was that had got him out of potions. Soon the door opened and Harry looked up to see Dumbledore's smiling face. "Come in, Harry," the headmaster said kindly, and Harry walked in. He set his bag down on the floor, and as he rose up, his eyes fell on two very familiar faces.

          "Sirius! Professor Lupin! What…"

          Harry was gob smacked. Lupin smiled at him kindly as Sirius (annoyingly) ruffled Harry's hair. "I'm not a professor anymore, Harry. You know that. Call me Remus."

          "Oh yeah, right, sorry," Harry said. "What are you doing here? What's going on?" he asked looking from one to the other. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had been good friends of Harry's parents. Sirius was also his godfather, and Remus had been his defence against the dark arts teacher about four years ago.

          Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore all looked at each other with hidden meanings. Harry frowned. He was tired of being left out of things, and decided to voice this. "I'm not a kid," Harry said confidently. "I'm 17, you don't have to feel the need to protect me anymore."

          The adults, who were all roughly Harry's height, smiled and nodded. Harry frowned again and sat down. "So, what's going on?" he repeated, as Dumbledore walked round his desk and sat, as the others did, next to Harry.

          "Harry, as you know, Voldemort is very strong. Stronger than ever before, we feel." Harry nodded. _Voldemort… Everything in my life always leads back to that murderous bastard, he thought bitterly. Dumbledore continued after having been thinking deeply. "We need to stop him." Harry nodded again this time more passionately. "I've asked for some help from various people…some you know well, some you met in your fifth year." Harry thought back to when Dumbledore had called in a type of council; Arabella Figg, who, ironically, had been Harry's babysitter for years without Harry knowing she was a witch;  Mundungus Fletcher, a wise old man whom Harry had not met before his fifth year; Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. "The old crowd," said Harry, clearly remembering Dumbledore's words in those terrifying hours as he asked Sirius to go get everybody. Dumbledore nodded, seeing the memory in Harry's eyes. Harry had just witnessed the return of Voldemort. Things had had to move quickly._

          Harry shook his head slightly. Back to the real world. Dumbledore sensed this feeling and continued. "For two years we have watched Voldemort grow stronger, as you know; you saw him last year…" Harry closed his eyes and nodded tightly. When he opened them again no one was looking at him. Sirius lay a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry smiled up at the familiar friendly face then turned back to Dumbledore. "Yes?" he asked, urging the head master to continue.

          Dumbledore looked up again. "We have the "old crowd" together, and we have some new people to help. Professor Snape and a few other teachers have volunteered in helping…" Harry narrowed his eyes. Despite what everyone said, Harry still didn't trust Snape. Even if he was no longer a death eater, one of Voldemort's followers, Snape still _had been. Plus, he hated Harry. Dumbledore frowned and Harry shrugged, slightly put off by the fact that Dumbledore had known what he was thinking._

          "But, why are you telling me this?" Harry asked, the sudden thought penetrating his mind. Dumbledore looked to Sirius and Remus, nodded then turned back to Harry once more.

          "We want you to help."

a/n: and the plot thickens!!!


	5. Something's Going On

Harry blinked. He turned to look at Sirius and Remus, who stared their grave faces back at him. Harry blinked at Dumbledore again. "What?" he asked. "…Wh…what?"

          Dumbledore did indeed look serious. "You want me to what?" Harry repeated, a sense of bewilderment flooding through his body. They wanted him to help them defeat Voldemort…he was only 17! Harry frowned at Dumbledore, waiting for him to speak.

          "Harry, we realise you are young. We realise you still have much to learn. And we realise that as your…guardians, as you might say, our job is to protect you. But Harry, you know as much as we finally do that you are different. There is a reason beyond strength to why you are Head Boy, Harry. A reason beyond that to why you in particular are sitting in my office today, with myself, your godfather, and an old friend almost begging you to risk your life to help us."

          Harry slowly leant back in his chair and frowned. Why was… He was confused. Why were they asking _him to help? Why not one of the hundred year old guys up at the Ministry with…a hundred years experience?_

          "Harry…" Harry turned to face Sirius looking down on him almost pleadingly. "I know we're asking a lot, and I know we have no right to ask. But we need you. The more help we have in this the better, you of all people know that. You have experience with…V…Voldemort," Harry nearly smiled at how Sirius found it hard saying Voldemort's name, but kept it back; "and that is very precious to us."

          Harry sat back, this new piece of information sinking in. "Is that all I am?" Harry asked slowly. "A precious valuable piece of information to help you find Voldemort, kill Voldemort, then dump the kid?"

          The faces around him turned worried, and all began to speak at once. Harry stood up and cut them off. "No. I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You were right in your first instinct; protect me and leave me be. I'm 17. My biggest worry right now is not to have another breakdown, and to pass my NEWTs. Voldemort killed my parents, he killed Cedric Diggory, he killed Hermione, he came very close to_ killing me several times…" Harry stopped and breathed deeply. "I'm not a coward. If Voldemort burst through this door right now, I'd be ready for him. But I am not about to prepare myself for death when my parents __and Hermione both died to save me!"_

          Silence penetrated the room like a dog realising he's without his bone. "I'm sorry," Harry said again, looking especially to Sirius, and then left the room.

          Harry didn't eat that night. None of the Griffindors said anything about it as they filled the room with their laughter and talks of the up and coming Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Griffindor. Occasionally, Harry's eyes flickered to the teacher's table, and he noticed Dumbledore and Snape deep in conversation. At one time, Snape turned his head to catch Harry's eye purposefully. Snape's eyes looked meaningfully into his and Harry turned away, Snape nodding to Dumbledore as he did so.

          "You gonna eat anything?" Dean asked Harry, prodding him with his fork.

          "No," said Harry, not bothering to lie.

          "Well, you've got to eat something," Lavender said from across the table. Harry looked up at her, then back at his food.

          "I'm not hungry."

          "What about the Quidditch match on Saturday?" said Seamus. "You need your strength! You of all people should know this is a bloody important game!"

          Harry breathed deeply and clenched his fists on the table. "I know it's an important game," he said tightly, through clenched teeth. "I don't care." Everyone within six or so seats of Harry shut up immediately. This was not good. Harry Potter no longer cared about Quidditch? The one word that got his attention in lessons? The one thing he'd had a special skill at from an extraordinarily young age? The game he happened to be captain and an all-important seeker for?

          Seamus raised his eyebrows. "What did you say?" he asked, voicing everyone's astonishment.

          Harry unclenched his fists and tried to calm his anger. "Well…well, don't you think there are more important things in life?" he asked calmly.

          "Like…what?" Seamus asked frowning.

          "You can't possibly tell me that the one thing you love most in life is Quidditch." Harry was gob smacked. How could one person be so hollow of feelings?

          Seamus looked confused, so Dean spoke instead. "Family and friends are. I always miss my family when I'm here, but then I always miss my friends when I'm at home."

          "Exactly!" Harry said.

          "So…you're telling us, you…wanna go home?" said Seamus frowning.

          "No!" Harry sighed. "Never mind."

          They ate in silence for a while when Neville spoke. "I love Trevor. He's more important to me than Quidditch."

          Harry smiled at Neville gratefully.

          Ron, who had been quiet up until now, said in a hushed voice to Harry, "So what did Dumbledore want?"

          Harry thought quickly. How much could he tell Ron? Not much, he realised. But there was one thing he could tell him. "Sirius is here," he whispered into Ron's ear.

          "Really!" Ron exclaimed quietly, happiness spreading across in a smile over his face.

          Harry grinned. "Yeah, I know. I haven't seen him for a while. I only saw him once in the summer, near the start."

          "I still don't understand why you can't go and live with him," Ron asked, shaking his head. Harry shrugged. He'd asked both Dumbledore and Sirius that question several times, but he'd never had a clear answer. The most he ever got was, "You're safe where you are," and things like that.

          "Can I see him later?" Ron asked.

          Harry opened his mouth to say "Yes of course"…and then closed it again. Taking Ron to Dumbledore's office to ask to see Sirius would be…uncomfortable. And besides, Harry didn't know how long he was here for. For all he knew, Sirius had left already. Unfortunately, just at that thought, a side door near the teacher's table opened, and Sirius and Remus walked through it. Remus stood at the door while Sirius went and knelt by Snape and Dumbledore's sides, telling them something. Dumbledore nodded to Snape and Professor Sprout, the herbology teacher, who was sitting further along the table, listening intently. Professor Sprout and Snape stood and followed Sirius out of the Great Hall. Harry frowned curiously, but then remembered it was nothing to do with him.

          "Did you see that?" Ron asked looking towards the teachers, a deep frown shadowing his eyes.

          "What? Sirius?"

          "Well, yeah, but… What's going on? Something's going on."

          "Why?" Harry asked, trying to sound completely normal and succeeding.

          "Well, for starters, Sirius _and professor Lupin don't normally hang out at the castle together, at the same time. And secondly…Snape hates Sirius' guts, and he just followed him out of here."_

          Harry sighed. Ron was good at this. He'd be hard to lie to. "Maybe they're just here to see Dumbledore or something…and…you remember in our fifth year, how Dumbledore made Sirius and Snape shake hands?"

          Ron nodded, but Harry could tell he still wasn't convinced. "I'm gonna follow them," Ron said, standing up. Harry stood up as well. "Why?"

          "I wanna know what's going on! Don't you?" Ron started to look suspicious of Harry.

          Harry sighed. He had no choice. "Fine, come on then."

A/N: a long chapter followed by an incredibly short one! lol. Sorry about that. I'll try and get the next chapter up soon. You know the drill: review review review!!!!

~rowan

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	6. The Snake Mirror

Harry trudged along behind Ron reluctantly. They walked out of the great hall and on outside. Harry shivered, it was cold. "Ron! Can we go back now? They're not here anyway…"

          "There they are." Ron walked on ahead, but Harry caught his arm.

          "Ron, this is ridiculous. It's cold, we're hungry. Why do you really care anyway?"

          Ron narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you care?" Harry took his hand away. "Harry, we've been best friends for seven years, I'm not stupid. Something suspicious is going on, involving your godfather, and you don't wanna go explore this because you're hungry." Ron folded his arms together. "You really expected me to believe that?"

          Harry smiled. "Yes. Yes I did actually. I thought you would because I expected you to be too hungry to care."

          Ron blushed. "Yes, well…I had a big lunch."

          "Fine." Harry sighed again. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it from Ron very long anyway. He told him everything. "Come back inside the castle and I'll tell you tonight."

          "You tell me as soon as we get to the common room, or I'll march straight up to Dumbledore's office, and ask him instead. Ok?" Harry nodded in agreement, and the two headed back the great hall.

          Harry and Ron sat down in a far corner of the dormitory, where a few people were wandering around. Harry looked around, and then sat back. Neither spoke for a moment. "So," started Ron. "What's going on that you didn't think you should tell me about?"

          Harry leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, his hands tightly together. He looked down while telling Ron. "Voldemort is strong," he started. He could feel a sudden stillness from Ron. He knew that he hated it when Harry said the name.

          "Of all the things I thought this would be about, believe it or not, I never actually thought it would be about… _it." Harry smiled wryly at the way Ron spoke about Voldemort as "it". He'd wrecked both their lives as well as the rest of the magical worlds'._

          "Sirius and Remus are here because Dumbledore thinks that it's getting serious. He's called in Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher as well."

          "Hey, I know them, we met them a few years ago didn't we?" said Ron.

          Harry nodded. He looked up at that moment, straight into Ron's eyes. "They want me to help them," he said softly.

          "What?!" Ron jumped up. Harry stood as well looking around the common room. Luckily, no one had noticed Ron's outburst.

          "Look, I'm pretty sure Dumbledore doesn't want everyone knowing, so just, calm down, ok? Anyway, I'm not…"

          "No, I won't calm down," Ron interrupted, almost hissing. He frowned at Harry. "This guy killed Hermione. This guy killed your parents, for hell's sake, Harry! You can't go into certain death! Not after what they sacrificed!"

          "I kn…"

          "You don't always have to be the hero, Harry! Just walk away! They've got loads of people helping them out, they don't _need you! You're 17, you…you've got NEWTs this year, you…you…" Ron stopped and looked at Harry's face. He looked calm, not angry and ready to fight back. "What?"_

          Harry sat down and Ron followed. "I'm not helping them."

          "…What?"

          "I'm _not helping them," Harry repeated, amused._

          Ron looked momentarily confused. "But…why not?"

          "Why not? Because of all the things you just said! Hermione meant more to me than anything, and she died because of me. I'm not going to throw my life away as well as hers."

          Ron sat still for a moment, then sat back and frowned. "I expected you to say yes."

          "Why?"

          "Because this is what you do. You're always trying to be the hero. You…you fight you-know-who. It's…it's just what you do."

          Harry smiled wryly. "So you're telling me that I'm some kind of superhero?"

          "No! But…look, never mind. The main thing is you're not stupid enough to go find him."

          Harry leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply, thinking. After a while, he said, "Do you think I _should have said yes?"_

          "Bloody hell, of course not! It would mean almost certain death! No one can ask that from you, Harry. And anyway, you're only 17. You don't know enough, you're not strong enough."

          Harry smiled. Ron was very wrong. Harry thought about what Dumbledore had said about his strength, and about what he could do with his eyes. Harry suddenly realised that he _had to help them. He wasn't "gifted" with these special powers or whatever for no reason. And Harry knew that if he didn't help, then he would feel bad for the rest of his life, knowing people may have died because of him._

          "What's so funny?" asked Ron.

          "I hate you," said Harry, still smiling.

          "Wh…" Ron started, but Harry cut him off with a single look. Ron raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked again.

          "I can't tell you," Harry said secretively. "I need to show you." He looked around the common room. It was getting late, and there was just one person left sitting at a desk reading: Lavender.

          Ron noticed Lavender and turned back to Harry. "Can you show Lavender as well?"

          "No." Harry shook his head. "No one else can know but us, ok?"

          Ron nodded and stood up. He walked over to Lavender and bent down, whispering something to Lavender. She looked over to Harry worriedly, nodded, and scuttled away up to her dormitory. Ron walked over, a grin plastered on his triumphant face. Harry stood and raised an eyebrow. "What did you say to her?"

          "I just told her you were having another of your breakdowns and could she leave us alone." Ron walked over to a more comfy chair as if it was no big deal and sat down.

          "Ron! I don't want people thinking I'm still…I mean…I still have…you know what I mean. I'm over that now."

          Ron didn't look convinced, but shrugged anyway, and gestured his hand towards the chair next to him. Harry didn't sit down. Instead, he looked around for something he could do. When he saw it, he turned his attention back to Ron. "Right," he started nervously. "You know you said "you're not strong enough" to help them, yeah?" Ron nodded slowly. "Well, there's something I need to show you. I've wanted to show someone this for ages."

          Harry scanned his eyes back to the chess board. He concentrated on the white queen and this time, held out his hand to catch it from going in his eye again. That was something he'd have to work on. Not thinking about Ron at all, he concentrated hard and the chess piece flew to his hand obediently. Harry caught it easily, paused a moment, then turned to Ron and opened his hand. Ron's eyes were wide open and looked scared.

          "Ron, don't worry," Harry said anxiously as Ron stood up nervously. "Remember in our second year, everyone found out I could talk to snakes and immediately assumed I was Slytherin's heir? Well you stuck with me through that. I'm still me. I just…don't seem to need a wand anymore.

          Ron walked over to Harry and looked down at the chess piece in his hand in disbelief. "Do something else," he said.

          "Ok," said Harry. He looked over at the fire place. Ron's eyes widened even more (if that was possible) at the growing orange flames that were licking away in the fire place. He looked at Harry. "How long have you been able to do this?"

          "Well, I found out during the summer holidays." Ron's mouth flew open. Harry knew he wasn't supposed to do magic during the holidays. "I know, I know," Harry said, understanding. "But it wasn't my fault! I was sitting in the living room and I was really cold. I looked at the fire place and wished the fire was on, and suddenly, it was."

          Ron sat down again. "How come you've never been able to do this before?"

          "I don't know." Harry shook his head and sat down as well. "I have no answers. All I know is, I can get rid of my wand."

          The two sat in silence. "Can you do anything else?" Ron asked finally. Harry raised an eyebrow. "You know, I mean, other than fire and bringing things to you." Harry cocked his head to one side. He hadn't thought of that. What else…

          "Turn that chess piece into an animal," Ron suggested. Harry stared hard at the chess piece, and soon a fluffy bunny rabbit was sitting in the palm of his hand. Harry smiled and stroked it.

          "Harry, you _have to tell Dumbledore about this."_

          Harry looked at his friend, and realised he was telling him something he didn't want him knowing. Harry and Ron both knew what Harry had to do. Harry sighed and leaned back in the soft comforts of the armchair. "I know. I owe it to them to help."

          Ron nodded painfully. "Just…be careful, man."

          Harry nodded as well. "Ok. I'm tired, let's go to bed." They both stood and moved to the stairs.

          From a stair leading up to the girls dormitories, Lavender's eyes were still wide open in disbelief at what she'd just seen and what she'd just heard, as she fled up to her dormitory quietly.

          At dinner the next day, Harry tried to blot out all thoughts of Voldemort and Dumbledore. He knew he'd have to think about that eventually, but for now, he thought he'd better make up for the previous day's lack of enthusiasm about Quidditch. Now, he and Kial, one of the beaters, were deep in conversation about beater tactics. "Well, if you stay near the chasers most of the game, and Megan stays near the goal…"

          "But what about you? The other team are gonna wanna knock you out the most."

          "Well, yes, but…"

          Their conversation was interrupted by the chinking of a goblet. Harry looked up to the teacher's table to see Dumbledore standing with a grave look on his face. Harry frowned. This couldn't be good. He gulped. He wasn't going to tell them anything about Voldemort, was he? He wouldn't…

          Harry was trying to convince himself that Dumbledore wouldn't be so stupid as to raise a panic against Voldemort's new strengths, when the headmaster spoke. "Students of Hogwarts, I have a very grave and sad announcement to make." Quiet murmurs flew around the great hall. Dumbledore let them continue for a bit, and then subside. "Not two months into the school year yet, and I am sad to say there has been a death." A tiny whimper came from down Harry's table, and he turned to see a first year being comforted by another first year. He and Ron exchanged glances. This was not good.

          "Not since Cedric Diggory, may he rest in peace, has there been a death. A girl whose name was Martha Jelton." Harry frowned. He recognised that name…Martha Jelton…

          "The cause of the death is unknown, and we shall be investigating this case further, but the hospital wing did all they could before the announced her dead. Raise your goblets for Martha Jelton, the beloved first year Griffindor, whose life had been cut horrendously short."

          "Bloody hell," came Ron's voice from next to Harry. "I wonder how it happened. Did you know her?"

          Harry nodded his head slowly. He had gone a deathly white. "Are you ok, Harry?" Martha. The girl who thought she was safe. The little girl who knew she was safe, when the famous Harry Potter was at school to protect her…

"Professor Dumbledore!" As soon as dinner had ended, Harry had run over to find the headmaster through the swarm of bodies exiting the hall. Everyone, even the Slytherins, seemed saddened, or at least worried, by this mysterious death. And with nothing leading up to it either. But Harry needed to know more. He felt responsible. Martha had thought she was safe. She'd practically told him to look after her. And he hadn't… Maybe she wouldn't have died if he'd just agreed to help Dumbledore. Assuming it was all Voldemort's doings…

Harry called out Dumbledore's name again over the Hogwarts students. The headmaster turned and waited quietly for whoever had called his name. Harry emerged from the sea of bodies retreating up the stairs or down to the dungeons to their common rooms.

          "Harry." Dumbledore nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I thought you might come and see me."

          "Professor, I need to know…what happened?"

          "As I said, Harry, we do not know precisely what happened. Professor Snape, Remus and Lupin are looking deep into it as we speak. We would have asked Professor Goldhammer, your defence against the dark arts teacher, to assist but he fled from Hogwarts tonight. Something about 'evil goings on', I don't know…" Dumbledore shook his head, and began to walk the corridor towards the hospital wing, where presumably Martha's body lay.

          "Professor, I know you don't know _exactly what happened, but I know you think you know who did it."_

          Dumbledore glanced at Harry. "We both know who we think did this merciless killing, Harry." He looked ahead of him again. "As I said to you earlier, myself, Mundungus, Arabella, Remus, Sirius and Professor Severus are looking into it. We are doing our best to figure out where Voldemort…"

          "I'll help as well."

          Dumbledore stopped walking and turned to face Harry. "You do want to help?"

          Harry breathed out deeply. "No, sir. I never said that. I don't want to help. Every apart of me is screaming at me to run away and hide in my dormitory. But I can't do that. I can help. You need me."

          Dumbledore looked like he would have smiled then in ordinary circumstances, but in the recent death of Martha, perhaps he thought it unsuitable. "We do, do we?"

          "Yes."

          Harry offered no explanation yet as to why they did. He couldn't explain it in the corridor where anyone could hear. It was too dangerous. Too many spies of Voldemort. He would tell him later, when they were in his office.

          "Sir, I want to see Martha."

          Dumbledore's eyebrows rose above his half-moon spectacles. "You knew the girl, did you?"

          "Yes, sir. Remember? She was the one who you sent to fetch for me the other day."

          Dumbledore's eyebrows crinkled into a frown, as if trying hard to remember. "Ah yes, of course." His face saddened. He smiled, and yet said nothing. The two carried on walking to the hospital wing.

          When they got there, there were lots of people standing around the bed. Professor Snape, Professor Sprout, and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, were feeling Martha's head, taking her temperature (even though she was already dead) and checking just about every inch of her body for clues, and Sirius and Remus were sat on a bed far away, deep in conversation.

          Everyone hushed up as soon as they saw Dumbledore and Harry. Professor Snape and Professor Pomfrey immediately rushed to Dumbledore's side, updating him, it seemed. Harry walked towards Martha's side and kneeled down on the floor. He lifted her hand and felt it. It was cold, limp, and almost solid. Harry looked at Martha's face. Colour had been drained from it; she was as a ghost. Her small delicate eyes were closed gently, and her mouth was open slightly. Her hair was disarrayed, all over the place. There was no soul left in her to care about hair anymore.

          "I'm sorry, Martha," Harry whispered. He kissed her hand and stood. As Dumbledore seemed a bit busy with Snape (a/n: not meant in an ew! way!), Harry walked over instead to Sirius and Remus. "Any clues to who did it?" Harry asked, making them jump. They hadn't even seen him come in. They must have been discussing something real important.

          "Harry! What are you doing here?" asked Sirius.

          "I came with Dumbledore. I…I want to help you."

          Sirius looked at Remus who raised his eyebrows at him then turned to Harry. "Are you sure?"

          "No." Harry sat on the bed next to Sirius. "But I'm going to anyway."

          Sirius shrugged and looked away. Harry guessed he was pretty much the only one against the idea of him helping. Sirius was very close to Harry's parents. He knew what they'd sacrificed to save his life.

          Harry decided to speak to him about it later. "So, any ideas as to who did it?" he repeated.

          It was Remus who answered. "I'll give you one guess."

          "Voldemort."

          "Yeah. Of course, we're not _sure; I mean, there are no clues. Whoever this guy was, they were very discreet about it."_

          "Which is clue number one," Sirius added in. "You-know-who is a bloody genius. He'd be careful not to leave any paw-prints."

          "How did it happen?"

          "No one knows." Sirius shrugged and looked away. "That's why it's so hard to pinpoint who did it."

          "She was found in the grounds, near Hagrid's hut, on the edge of the Dark Forest. She was just lying on the ground, peacefully." Remus stood up and walked over to the bedside table next to Martha. He walked back over to Harry and handed the object to him. It was a red mirror with cracked glass. "This was found beside her."

          Harry immediately thought back to when he was in his 2nd year. Hermione had been found on the floor with a mirror. She'd been petrified by a giant snake, and had realised that she wouldn't die, would only be petrified, if she'd only seen the reflection of the monster through the mirror. Harry smiled sadly. She was a clever girl. _We always made fun of you for liking tests and loving the library…but when we need you, you're not here are you? Harry thought sadly._

          He put the mirror flat down on the bed next to him and realised that Sirius was staring at him. "Um, so, you're all very clever wizards," Harry said, breaking Sirius' stare. "What does this mirror tell us?"

          "Not very much," Remus said, sitting down. "But take a look on the back."

          Harry reluctantly lifted the mirror again and looked on the back. It was a blood red colour, and there were intricate markings on it. Harry ran his hand along them and frowned.

          "Any idea what that is?" asked Sirius, laughing shortly and sarcastically.

          Harry frowned deeper. He closed his eyes and continued running his hand along. _Hissnarth, dracorrrnethss, kssopthnusss, indusssnesthh… Harry's eyes shot open. It was in parseltongue. Snake language. Harry knew he could understand parseltongue, and speak it. But he had no idea he could __read it. He didn't even know you could __write the language._

          "Harry? What is it?" Sirius stood anxiously. "What, do you recognise what it is?" Sirius looked down at the carvings. "What is it?"

          Harry didn't look at Sirius. He didn't say anything. Instead, he turned, and walked straight over to Dumbledore. "Professor? Professor-"

          "Just a minute, Mr. Potter, can't you see we're talking about something very important, here! A girl has just died!" said Snape, then turned back to Dumbledore angrily.

          Harry folded his arms. "Oh, so you won't want to know what these markings are on the back of the mirror then, will you?"

          Snape stopped talking, and turned slowly to look at Harry. He said nothing. It was Dumbledore who spoke. "Harry? What is it?"

          Harry breathed deeply before saying, "It's in parseltongue. It's a riddle. It reads: 'The blood will not stop, the pain shall go on… 'till the heir to the light, shall step forward and fight'." The whole room went a deadly silent. It was Remus who finally spoke. "What the hell does that mean?"

a/n: ooh, long chapter! J any confusions, any questions, any thoughts or ideas on this story, please feel free to email me. Or just review! Thanx..

~rowan

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	7. Lavender's Thoughts

Author's Note: This extremely short chapter (the last chapter made up for this one's shortness!) is set in Lavender's POV. Just so you don't get all confused. Merry Christmas J ! 

(By the way, just in case we have some straaaaaaaaange people reading this who don't understand it, getting "pissed off" at someone is getting angry at them.)

**_Dear Diary,_**

****

**_Harry can do magic without a wand. With just his mind and his eyes. I'm scared. Not even you-know-who or Dumbledore has that kind of power, and I thought they were supposed to be the best wizards in the world. Obviously not. Now that Harry Potter is here. I wonder if he's told Dumbledore? He should. Dumbledore needs to know. …Harry doesn't know that I know! I forgot about that. Oh dear…I wonder if he'll be pissed off at me if I tell him I was…spying_****_ on him. Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself here. Here's what happened:_**

****

**_The other day, I was just doing my homework in the common room, when Ron walked over to me. I looked up, and realised that he and Harry were the only other people in the room. Harry was sitting in a corner, looking over at me and Ron. Ron said to me, "Lavender, I don't wanna be rude, but Harry's feeling really upset, and I need to talk to him alone." Ron gave me a "look" so I looked over at Harry, nodded, and left the common room._**

****

**_But I'm not stupid. When I looked at Harry, I could tell he wasn't upset or having a breakdown or whatever. He was fine. Just seemed confused. Possibly at what Ron was telling me to get me out of there. I went over to the girl's stairs which are just out of view, and sat down on one of the steps. Suddenly I heard Harry shout something. He was angry that Ron had told me he was upset. Why would he care if I thought he still had breakdowns over Hermione? Well, anyway…_**

****

**_I poked my head round the corner, and although I couldn't hear too well, I could see that Ron was sitting down and Harry was standing, frowning, as if whatever he was trying to say was really difficult for him. Then, he looked over at a table, and I saw there was a chess board on it. The next thing I knew, a chess piece was flying over to Harry's hand!_**

****

**_He never said anything! He never even moved! And I could see that he certainly didn't have his wand with him! Ron walked over to him and they talked for a little bit, I don't know what about. Then Harry looked over at the fire place and the next thing I knew it was alight._**

****

**_I couldn't believe it! Coming from a muggle family, when I first had my letter, all those years ago, I was in disbelief enough when I realised we could make things happen by simply pointing a stick at something and muttering a few words. But I never knew that there were wizards like Harry. I don't think Harry knew there were wizards like him. Maybe there aren't._**

****

**_Anyway, Harry and Ron talked for a bit, and I wanted to know what, so carefully, I edged forward a few steps, and poked my head right forward to hear. Apparently Harry's realised he could do this since the summer. I'm surprised the Ministry didn't send him a letter of warning or whatever, for lighting his fire place. Though, I suppose it was an accident._**

****

**_I was so caught up in my thoughts, that I don't know what happened next, but I looked back over at Harry and there was a rabbit sitting in his hand! Did he do that? I certainly wouldn't be surprised._**

****

**_I listened intently to their conversation, and frankly, I am very confused._**

****

**_Ron told Harry he had to tell Dumbledore. Well, I understand that. Dumbledore's like our witchy-mentor-friend. He should tell Dumbledore. Unless he has already. But then Harry said, in these exact words, "I know. I owe it to them to help."_**

****

**_Help? Help with what?_**

****

**_Then Harry and Ron stood to go, and I scuttled up here. I was going to write in you last night, but I was too tired, and too confused._**

****

**_What the hell is going on? Something's going on, and I know it's none of my business, but I wanna know what it is._**

****

**_And if it's to do with Harry…_****__**

****

**_I care about Harry. We all do. I don't want him to, like, get hurt or anything._**

****

**_Now don't get me wrong, I do not, DO NOT, fancy Harry or anything like that. He's a good friend. Since Hermione died (may she rest in peace) we've become a lot closer. I don't wanna lose that! I've already lost Hermione…_**

****

**_No one really understood mine and Hermione's and Parvati's relationship. We were all really close. A lot closer than anyone thought. Me and Parvati knew that Hermione was closer to Harry and Ron, but we used to stay up late and talk for ages, about things Hermione felt she couldn't tell the boys._**

****

**_Parvati_****_ and I were the first to know Hermione thought she had stronger feelings for Harry. Even before Ron. AND we were the ones who told Ron and set the two up._**

****

**_I really miss her…_**

****

**_But, me and Parvati have agreed with each other that we won't lose our heads over this. Hermione was a very brave girl, standing up to you-know-who for the one she loved. That was so beautiful what she did. I just hope she's in a better place now._**

****

**_I've got to talk to Harry. I know he might be a bit pissed that I kind of spied on him, but I won't tell anyone. I haven't even told Parvati._**

****

**_They're all at a Quidditch match right now. I should be there, supporting them. But I just can't face _****him _right now._**

****

**_I'm gonna talk to him tomorrow. I'll tell you how it went._**

****

**_Night,_**

**_Lavender_**

****


	8. Lessons

The next day was spent in a sort of hypnotic daze for Harry. In Transfiguration, he was sent out to the library to "sort yourself out!" - Which were the exact words used by Professor McGonagall, because Harry was daydreaming and not listening to a word anyone said. Harry assumed that Dumbledore hadn't gotten round to telling all the staff about his involvement in the helping of Operation Kill Voldemort plan yet, otherwise Harry thought McGonagall might have gone a bit easier on him.

          In charms, Harry accidentally made his book fly across the room without use of his wand, and quickly got it out, pointing uselessly at it. Ron gave him a warning look. No one else knew about Harry yet, and he wanted it to stay that way. He didn't want his second year to be repeated all over again… Harry knew that he would have to tell Dumbledore eventually, and soon, but he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't tell the whole school about it anyway. It's not like he would lift Harry up in the middle of dinner and shout, "Look at this boy! He doesn't need a wand to do magic! Let's all be afraid of him… and point and laugh while we're at it!"

          After that Harry had Care Of Magical Creatures, which was basically an entire lesson in the Forbidden Forest (according to Hagrid, it was: "Perfectly safe durin' the day"), looking for Fang, his dog, who had run away in the middle of the night, because he'd heard a terrifying noise which turned out to be a little mouse looking for something small and tasty to eat… Fang's tail.

          They eventually found Fang hiding under a log full of beetles, his ears covering his face in shame and fear. Hagrid got the dog back inside, and gave Griffindor and Ravenclaw 10 house points each for helping. Next Harry had DADA; Defence Against The Dark Arts. Since Professor Goldhammer had, ahem, "Left suddenly for a family emergency", Remus offered to take it temporarily.

          Those who did not yet know of their earlier DADA's teacher's return, were eagerly and childishly excited. For most people, Remus was the best teacher they had ever had (or, at least, the best DADA teacher they had ever had; they'd had so many, as most only stayed for a year – each had different excuses) and everyone was really happy to see him.

          "Um, I don't know where Professor Goldhammer left off," Remus said, starting off the lesson, "but I'm just going to teach you some spells to block other spells; counter curses for nasty, scary, killing spells, when you're in the face of danger." Harry knew this was mainly for his benefit, but he didn't say anything. "Each of you will have one of these;" Remus reached his hand into a box and pulled out a slimy green frog. "This is a Hermitan; it lives alone in dark places. It doesn't always take the shape of a frog, it's just that I found a bunch of them in the lake." Harry didn't like to ask how he got the hermitans if they were at the bottom of the lake. "It's breath is poison, so when you take their masks off," Remus had put cute little frog-sized gas-masks over each hermitan's mouth, "I want you to point your wand at it and say, in this exact pronounciation, 'Speeg-ar-rar-moose'; Spihgararmus. The hermitan should then fall back and it will be made unconscious for roughly ten minutes." Remus put the frog back into its box. "Now, Spihgaramus is a spell that not many wizards can do. It takes a helluva lot of practice and is very, very hard to do. Most wizards just prefer killing the things. So I don't expect many of you to get it this lesson, but by the end of the week, a few of you may be able to keep it unconscious for a few seconds, if you're lucky! So don't worry if nothing happens; oh, but move away quickly and put on the gas masks that I'm handing around for each of you." A few people looked a bit nervous at this last statement, but quickly got into it.

          Remus went around the class helping people. Harry got his wand out, took the mask at the frog, and said, "Spihgaramus!" Nothing happened. Harry put his mask on just in time to block the hermitan's belch. He heard Remus telling people that thinking of an emotion, sadness, or anger, usually helpd to do the spell. Harry turned back to the hermitan. He thought of Hermione. He thought of his parents. He thought of Voldemort. He thought of all Voldemort had done to wreck his life. He thought of the Dursleys. He recalled the exact moment Hermione had died next to Harry, the insane cruel laugh of Voldemort. Harry frowned deeply. He didn't like thinking about all these things. But he could feel the anger in him. He pointed his wand at the hermitan and took his own mask off. "Spihgmaramus!" Instantly, the frog fell on its back. Harry felt alarmed. Remus had said that the spell was really hard to do. Harry put his hands out to try and feel the hermitan's pulse. He didn't feel one. Maybe it didn't have a pulse.

          "Uh, professor?" Harry called out.

          Remus walked over to him, smiling. "Yes, Harry?"

          "Uh, do Hermitan's have pulses?"

          Remus frowned. "Yes, why?"

          Harry bit his lip and frowned, confused. "Um, I think I just killed mine."

          Remus raised an eyebrow curiously, and looked down at the hermitan. It did seem in a state of… well, death. He put his hand on its neck – there was no pulse.

          "Is it supposed to be able to kill?" Harry asked, nervously.

          Remus narrowed his eyes, as if he wasn't sure exactly how much he was allowed to tell him. "Well, yes, actually. It has been known to kill. But as I said, most wizards prefer Avadra Kedavra. It's a helluva lot easier." Remus paused. "Maybe you shouldn't tell anyone about this. It's a very rare spell for a 17 year old to be able to do." Harry nodded. It wouldn't be hard. After all, it wasn't the only secret he was hiding.

          Ron walked over. He took one look at the hermit and took a step back. He looked at Harry, terrified. "You _killed it?" he whispered incredulously._

          "Yeah, but…" Harry glanced over at Remus, then back at Ron, "remember that other thing I told you about? Don't hate me, don't be afraid. I don't know what's happening either…"

          Ron's face had gone completely white. "Dad was right…"

          Harry frowned. "_What? What are you talking about?"_

          Ron ran away out of the classroom, hardly attracting any attention. Remus raised his eyebrows at Harry, but said nothing. Harry simply shrugged in amazement, and tried hard to concentrate on the hermit.

          Ron lay on his bed. He couldn't be right. He'd never said that it would, he never said that it would definitely happen. It was just a coincidence. They did happen. But Ron had never believed that things happened purely from coincidence. There was a reason these new powers were coming to Harry. A reason. Everything happened for a reason.

          Ron thought of telling his dad, but he would only tell the ministry, then they'd be all over Harry. He could tell Dumbledore, but… Ron wondered then if Dumbledore knew. Probably. After all, there weren't many things his dad knew about the wizarding world that Dumbledore didn't.

          Suddenly Ron wished his brother were there. Strangely enough, he did miss them. He always thought, if anything happened, they'd be there to stand up for him. He still had Ginny, but she was in the year below him…and anyway, she would just panic and faint. Isn't that what girls did?

          Ron knew he was being sexist, but this was Ginny he was talking about here. It was common knowledge that Ginny had fancied Harry from the moment she'd seen him, from her first year when he'd saved her life…

          A random thought popped its way into Ron's racing motorway-mind. Harry had then just realised he had parseltongue, which had helped him save Hermione. Because he could speak parseltongue, he saved a life…Ron wondered, if because now Harry was so much stronger, and no longer needed a wand, perhaps it was a good thing?

          But still the thing that Ron's father had warned him about the previous summer crept crashing into these peaceful and happy thoughts. Harry was changing, just like Mr. Weasley had said…but would it be for good or for bad?

          Harry himself crashed in himself this time, interrupting Ron's thoughts. The door banged open and Harry strode in, with Neville, Dean and Seamus behind him. "Ron, what the hell is going on?" Harry asked. Ron stood up and frowned. If he told him, Harry would probably go crazy with worry, tossing the question over and over in his mind for weeks. If he didn't tell him, then he'd probably lose the best friend he'd ever had.

          "Nothing." Ron stood so that the two boys were face to face.

          The others seemed uncomfortable and anxious to get out of there. "Um, we'll, eh, we'll just be goin' then," Seamus said, heading towards the door.

          "No, don't go," Ron said, his voice strong and clear. "It's ok, we have nothing to talk about."

          Harry frowned. "What did your dad say?" Neville ran out of the room, and Dean and Seamus quickly followed before Ron could protest. Ron sighed. Now they were alone, he really didn't have any excuse not to tell him. Apart from the destiny of the whole world, of course.

          "Nothing, it doesn't matter," Ron said in a quiet voice. He tried to push passed Harry, but he wouldn't let him.

          "Ron, tell me. It does matter. I need to know what's going on - it's important."

          Ron began to get angry. He was angry that he couldn't tell him. He was angry that it was happening to Harry. He was angry that his dad was right. Most of all, he was angry at himself for not knowing what the hell to do. He knew though. He had to keep it from Harry, angering his long-time friend and end up most probably losing their friendship.

          "Harry, there are some things you just have to drop, ok!" Ron said, feeling all the anger rise up from his body and come off him in smoke. Harry took a step back, surprised at this strange, unexpected outburst. "You really need to learn how to do that someday." Ron shoved past and walked out of the dormitory.

          Harry turned and stared at the door. It was closed. Ron had gone. What had just happened? Did Ron expect to just say, "Dad was right…" after Harry had accidentally killed the hermit, and expect Harry not to be suspicious? It wasn't exactly something you said every day, with a scared look and a ghost-like face, even in the wizarding world.

          Harry walked over to his bed and sat down. Something was going on, and he needed to find out what it was. He stood up again, and walked over to the door, pulling it open to find a surprised Lavender lingering there with an arm raised, fist clenched. She stepped back, startled. So did Harry. "Lavender," he said in acknowledgement.

          "I need to tell you something." Lavender looked slightly nervous, and Harry frowned.

          "Ok," he said slowly. "Uh, come in then." Lavender walked past and Harry shut the door. Lavender sat down and fingered with her skirt. She looked nervous.

          Harry sat down on the edge of the bed opposite her. "So," he started. "What did you want to tell me?" Lavender bit her lip.

          "I know," was all she could seem to say. Harry opened his mouth, but suddenly Lavender spoke again, all the information and thoughts flooding from her mouth in one sentence. "I know you don't need a wand anymore I know about your power with that I saw you with Ron the other night and I'm sorry I know I was spying but Ron told me you were upset and it was obvious you weren't and I just wanted to know what was going on and I'm sorry and I know you're probably really angry at me but…"

          "Woah, woah, stop a moment." Harry held a hand out, and Lavender stopped talking, mouth open. She shut it tightly and waited for Harry to speak. He didn't speak.

          Harry thought for a moment, before raising his head to meet Lavender's eyes. "I'm sorry, Lavender, but…I'm afraid…I'm, I'm going to have to kill you."

          Lavender's eyes widened in horror, but Harry simply laughed. Lavender realised he was joking, and sulked. "That was so not funny."

          "I know." Harry stood and walked over to the window. He didn't say anything.

          Lavender realised he must be feeling bad. Scared, freaked out, whatever. She opened her mouth, but wasn't sure what to say. To her relief, Harry spoke. "So, you know."

           "Yeah." Silence. "Sorry."

          Harry shrugged, but still he gazed out of the window. Lavender stood up. "Do you know why this is happening?"

          Harry turned to face her. "No," he answered simply. "But I think Ron does."


	9. Beauty Is But An Illusion

"Hallowe'en!" Ron squealed, not bothering to cover his excitement. "It's gonna be wicked! Any monstrosity plans cooked up this year?" Ron asked Harry, nudging him with his elbow. Harry had decided to drop what Ron had said the other day. Obviously, he wasn't willing to talk about it. Harry thought he'd give him some time – then force and threaten it out of him.

"No, not year; but fear not, my friend, for the mind, it is at work." Harry grinned. He loved Hallowe'en, and their battles that occurred every year against their will (…or with some of their help) against the Slytherins were fun to think up. "But what we _could do, is…" Harry faltered. All thoughts of pretend trolls and something to make pink hair look like an accident drained away from his mind. He frowned, still looking over at what had caught his eye._

Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face. "Hello? Idea? What is it?" Harry pointed, and Ron followed his finger with his eyes. They frowned at each other. "New girl?" Ron suggested, shrugging.

Harry said nothing. Standing over by Dumbledore at the teacher's table was a young girl. A stranger to both Harry and Ron. She looked about their age, but what would be the point of moving to their school in the last year? Harry studied her carefully, although he couldn't see her face as she was turned towards Dumbledore. She had black hair, so long it reached her hips and stayed there in raggedy ends. It was straight, and silky. The girl looked as if she were roughly Harry's height, although he couldn't tell too well. Who was she?

At that moment the girl turned and caught Harry's eyes through the crowd. Harry almost gasped, but caught it just in time and shut his mouth before it had a chance to open. She was beautiful. Her face looked as though it had taken millions of years by very high Gods to form. Every inch of her face was perfectly formed, every bone perfectly in place. Harry wasn't too close to her, but he thought he'd seen a hint of brown in her eyes. A beautiful, glistening brown. The eyes that held that colour were deep, the eyelashes curving over them, shading them, protecting them.

Then she turned, moved away, and Harry blinked. He shook his head and laughed, turning back to Ron. He, Neville, Dean and Seamus were talking about her, wondering who she was. For a moment there Harry had thought… but no. Harry had never believed in love at first sight. No one was that perfect. Not even Hermione had been that perfect…that was the one thing that had made Harry love her even more…

"Yeah, but why would she move here now? If her parents had to move because of…whatever, then wouldn't they have at least waited 'till the end of her year?" Dean was saying. 

"Yes, but we don't know _why she came here. It could have been an emergency," Neville piped in._

Seamus glanced over at her then back to his friends. "I did hear that someone new was starting here, but I forgot about it until now. Apparently, her name's Cassandra, and she doesn't have parents. She has foster parents who work in a circus, that's why she had to move."

Parvati leaned in from across the table. "Yeah, well I heard she has to change foster parents every two years because she's so difficult to live with." From the seat next to her Lavender nodded knowingly. The two gossip queens.

Harry turned away from his friends. Were they all rumours, or was there some truth in all of that? He knew the circus thing was definitely a rumour. Cassandra… what a beautiful name.

Dumbledore stood up at the teacher's table, and almost immediately, the students noticed and shut up. They were hungry. "Before we eat, I have a few announcements to make. Hallowe'en is next week, and I have a reminder from Mr. Filch that this year, if any rabbits are found within the school again, their heads shall be removed as a reminder of their inconvenience of being here." Harry looked over at the Slytherin table to see Draco and a few others smirking. Harry grinned at Ron. Whatever they were going to do this year would be much worse than a plague of stupid rabbits. Dumbledore cleared his voice. "Also, we have a new student joining us!" Cassandra stood up next to him nervously. She looked a bit scared. Well, anyone would, joining a new and already-started school. "This is Miss Cassandra Leaks, she has moved here with her parents from Cornwall for personal reasons," Dumbledore glared at his students, as if to remind them that personal meant secret, "and will be sorted into a house by the hat."

Dumbledore held out the hat to Cassandra, but didn't offer her a stool. She took the hat from him and placed it onto her head. She'd barely put it on when the hat screamed out, "Slytherin!" Draco clapped hard, along with the rest of the Slytherins, and pushed Goyle, one of his followers, out of the way to make room for her. Harry looked over at Pansy Parkinsons; she didn't look very happy at this new arrangement.

_Great, thought Harry. He and his friends exchanged glances. "Another Slytherin to deal with," muttered Seamus._

"And a new Malfoy crony." Ron scowled.

"She won't fall for Malfoy. She could do so much better than that." A few eyebrows were raised and everyone stared at Harry.

Ron grinned. "Why do you care who she falls for? She's a Slytherin, right? You know all Slytherins are bad news."

"Well, of course. I only meant..."

"It looks like Harry fancies the new girl!" Parvati nosed.

Harry sighed. Once his fellow Griffindors had an idea in their heads there was nothing he could do about it. "No I don't," he said, wondering why he was bothering. He really didn't like her. He hadn't even met her yet, and anyway, he was still getting over Hermione.

She was pretty, but beauty is just an illusion.

          Ron and the others (mainly Ron) didn't stop going on about how Harry fancied Cassandra. "Cassandra Potter does sound pretty stupid, though," Parvati was saying to Ron.

          "Well, what about Harry Leaks?"

          "That's even worse!" Everyone burst out laughing, but Harry just ignored it. He knew they were only doing it to get his mind off Hermione, and although it was becoming annoying, Harry thanked them mentally for trying. The only person who didn't seem to be joining in with the jokes was Lavender. Harry spotted her across the common room sitting on her own, looking bored. He stood up and wandered over there. "You alright?" he asked, making her look up.

          She smiled. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine, thanks."

          "You look a bit down."

          Lavender smiled again. "I'm just tired. Thanks, though."

          Harry nodded but couldn't help thinking there was more to Lavender's isolation that met the eye. He decided maybe he should mention Cassandra. "Thanks for not joining in the jokes," he said grinning.

          Lavender nodded but didn't say anything. Silence. "_Do you like her though? Just wondering, you know…"_

          Harry smiled. "Lavender, I've never even spoken to her before. She is pretty, yes, but no. I don't. I mean, she's a Slytherin! I would rather go out with Snape!" Harry laughed and Lavender broke her tension and joined in.

          Next up was Potions – with the Slytherins. Everyone, for once, arrived there early; they were curious about seeing Cassandra. Not many had seen her up close yet. Harry had, but the picture had swayed in his mind quite a bit. It had been a whole day since he'd seen the mysterious new girl, whose beauty had seemed suffocating; but now Harry was wondering whether his mind had made that up or not. He couldn't remember.

          "Looking forward to see Cassandra?" Ron asked grinning.

          "Yeah, I am actually. I'm wondering if seeing her again will make you lot shut up… I don't fancy her, ok?!"

          Seamus and Ron gave each other looks and just grinned some more. Harry sighed. "Right, that's it, I give up. Think whatever you want."

          "Well, if you don't fancy her, why did you drag us up here so early for _potions," Parvati pointed out._

          "Actually, that was them," Harry corrected, pointing at Ron and Seamus. "_They wanted to see her up close. See what 'all my fuss was about' blah blah blah."_

          Everyone laughed and sat down, waiting for the professor to arrive, along with the rest of the Slytherins, most of whom had also arrived early to get the seats at the front. Everyone was already there when Cassandra arrived. Harry assumed she'd wanted to make a late entrance, not knowing anyone or where she was supposed to sit or anything. She walked in, head down slightly, books clutched to her chest. Harry tried hard not to stare at her. His heart had skipped a beat when she'd walked in. His mind hadn't been playing tricks on him. She was as beautiful as he'd thought.

          Cassandra put a hand up to her hair and tucked in behind her left ear, slowly, eyes darting around the classroom, wondering where to sit. At that point Draco waved, and she walked over to him smiling at someone to sit with.

          Ron sat back in annoyance. "Boring…" he muttered.

          Harry turned his head round to him. "What?" he asked.

          "Cassandra."

          Harry frowned confused. Seamus leaned over. "Yeah; I thought she was going to be really pretty!"

          Harry's mouth almost dropped open. "But she is really pretty–" He said this without realising it and shut his mouth together quickly.

          "Aha!" Ron smiled triumphantly. "So you _do fancy her!"_

          "No I don't!" Harry frowned. "I just thought she was pretty. You know, like I think Parvati's pretty, or like I think Lavender's pretty," he explained.

          "Oh." Ron looked disappointed, but there was a sparkle in his eye that said he wasn't dropping this one.

          "You don't think she's pretty?"

          Ron and Seamus looked over. "Not particularly," said Seamus shrugging. "She's alright I guess." 

          Harry was confused. Alright? She was beautiful. Harry couldn't find words to describe her beauty.

          Snape came in and everything was hushed. "Good morning, class," he said, sounding unusually cheery. He looked around the classroom, smiling. But as soon as he spotted Cassandra, he stopped, his face turning cold. He didn't say anything, and neither did Cassandra or anyone else for that matter.

          "Professor, this is Cassandra, she's new, sir. In the house of Slytherin you'll be pleased to know," Draco said, smirking.

          "Yes." Snape reply was short and tensed. "Professor Dumbledore did tell me of a new student. What did you say her name was?"

          "Cassandra Leaks, sir," said Cassandra. Harry's heart was at melting point. Even her voice was beautiful, if there was such a thing. Harry looked to Snape in confusion. Snape seemed to be amused. "Leaks, did you say?" A wry smile almost creeped across his face, then stopped, shyly. "Well, Leaks, welcome to potions. I do not hope you find all this boring, but Potions is an art you must know, as well as wand-waving and such." Harry, Ron and Seamus all frowned at each other. What was going on? Why was Snape acting so strange?

          Class ended, and Harry collected up his things. Throughout the whole lesson, Snape had been strangely kind to Cassandra. Why? Harry knew she was a Slytherin, and new, so undoubtedly Snape would have been expected to treat her with more kindness than he would any other student, but it did seem as if he were almost fussing over her. Running over every five minutes to ask if she was ok and did she understand what to do and did she need anything.

          Everyone else had already left, and Harry realised he'd been daydreaming, and Snape was shouting at him. He muttered an apology and left the classroom quickly, bumping into someone round the corner. "Oh, sorry," Harry muttered, looking down at the books he'd dropped. He picked them up and stood up quickly. "Sor…" he started to apologise again, but then stopped, seeing the smiling face in front of him. It was Cassandra.

          Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. Should he be horrible to her because she was a Slytherin? He didn't know. "Sorry," he said again, quickly, and tried to hurry past her, but she shifted position very craftily so that he had no choice but to stay where he was.

          "No, no it's my fault, I'm sorry." She smiled again and stuck a hand out. "Hi, I'm Cassandra." Harry hesitated, then slipped his hand into hers and out of it again, quickly. "Hi, I'm…"

          "I know who you are." Cassandra grinned. "Doesn't everybody?"

          Harry nodded shyly, but didn't offer any words. What was she doing? Didn't she know he was a Griffindor? Hated by all Slytherins?

          When Cassandra didn't say anything else, Harry decided he'd either have to speak or else stand there idly looking stupid. "So, why did you move here?" he asked, then wished he hadn't, remembering the warning tone in Dumbledore's voice the previous day.

          Cassandra started walking and Harry with her, side by side. "Well, it's, it's kinda…personal."

          Harry blushed. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean…"

          "Don't worry about it, its ok."

          Nothing much more was said. They got to the entrance hall where they both split off to their dormitories. "Well, I just wanted to say hi," Cassandra said. Harry nodded. She tucked her hair behind her ear again nervously, clutching her books harder.

          "Right," said Harry, hoping that Cassandra couldn't hear the fast beat of his pounding heart. "Well, I'll see you around."

          "Yeah. Bye." Cassandra turned around and walked off. Harry stared after her for a moment, then turned and scuttled up the stairs.

a/n: any thoughts on this story, then REVIEW!!!!! Or email me, whatever. I love feedback. What's the point in putting this on here if I don't know if anyone's enjoying it or not?! By the way, I've decided to put this into two parts. This first part is called "Discovery", and the second part will be called "The Fight." I think I'm about half way through the first part, so it is going to be quite long, bear with me, and REVIEW! Let me know if there's anything you want to happen or think would be good and please, tell me what you think is probably going to happen, so that I can see if I've put too many hints or not enough or whatever, if you know what I mean. Thanks,

~rowan

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	10. Conflictions

"So…what are we doing today, then?" Seamus asked, arms crossed, lying upside down on the chair.

          "I don't know. We could go to Hogsmede," Dean offered. Harry and Ron were playing a very boring game of wizards chess on the floor, and Neville was watching. It was boring because they all knew who was going to win: Ron.

          "We went to Hogsmede last week."

          "We could go see Hagrid."

          "We only saw Hagrid last night!"

          "…We could always do homework?"

          The four boys stared at Dean as if he was crazy, and so he shook his head. "Yeah, I know, but I can't think of anything else."

          There was a few minutes silence. Then Seamus spoke up again. "So, what do you wanna do?"

          Dean cocked his head to one side in thought. "Well, we could always…"

          This lasted for a long time. It was a vicious circle.

          "Why don't we just laze about here all day," suggested Harry, concentrating hard on his queen and the many evil white pieces surrounding it.

          "Because I'm bored!" protested Seamus. He sat upright and laid his hands down on each arm of the armchair.

          "There's nothing else to do," Ron pointed out.

          Seamus stood up suddenly. "I know, let's go to hogsmede!"

          Ron, Harry and Neville stood up in agreement, and the four boys left for the portrait hole leaving Dean feeling annoyed. "Does no one listen to me any more?" he muttered, before following his friends out.

          "I've got a meeting with Dumbledore this afternoon," Harry told Ron quietly, as they lagged behind the others, trying to get some privacy.

          Ron gave Harry a look. "When?" he murmured.

          Harry checked his watch. "In about two hours."

          "What's it about?" Harry looked at Ron sceptically, who shook his head in apology. "I know; I know what it's _about…" They both looked around before Ron went on. As Dumbledore had said, there were many spies of Voldemort. "I mean…any news?"_

          "Remember the mirror I told you about? With that parseltongue writing on the back?" Ron nodded. "Well I think we're going to have another look at that. Sirius said Dumbledore had a few ideas as to what it meant."

          Ron said nothing and smiled as Seamus stopped and turned to wait for them.

Harry reached the new robes shop and stood outside it, looking up at the name. He'd split up from the others because he wanted to buy Christmas presents for them all. The name above the shop was in silvery writing with gold spluttered around the edges. It read: "Ronnanita's Robes". Harry and Rebkah (head girl) were planning a New Year's party, and Harry decided that Ron needed a new robe.

          He walked into the navy blue shop and looked around. He found a really nice green robe with tinted gold at the edges, but decided against it (he thought it might clash with Ron's hair). Then he saw a gorgeous (a/n: although that is not the word he would use, the author can't think of a better one!) gold/brown one. It was lined with silver beads in dotted patterns. Not too extravagant, but not too plain and boring either.

          "Nice choice," sounded a voice over his shoulder. Harry turned. It was Cassandra. He smiled nervously. "Hi," he said.

          Cassandra studied the robe and then looked at Harry. "Not sure it would suit you though. It would clash with your beautiful eyes."

          Harry tried to ignore the fact that Cassandra had said he had beautiful eyes, and spoke: "Oh, it's not for me. It's for my friend, Ron."

          Cassandra looked confused. Harry realised that she might not know anyone, yet. She had only been at the school for a few weeks. "Is he the one with red hair who's always following you around?"

          Harry laughed. "Yes, but he's not always following me around. He's my best mate."

          Cassandra nodded and smiled. There was an awkward silence. "Um, so…what you buying?"

          "Oh, I'm here with Draco. He's just trying something on." Harry's blood went cold. For a moment he had almost forgotten that Cassandra was a Slytherin. Cassandra must have noticed this change in Harry. She said, "Yeah, I noticed you and Draco don't seem to get on very well."

          Harry smiled bitterly. "Understatement of the century," he muttered, frowning.

          But Cassandra just laughed, the sound making Harry's heart jump slightly.

          Draco came out of the changing rooms wearing a long, black robe that reached his feet. "Cassie, what do you think?" he asked. Cassie? Harry thought he was going to throw up.

          Cassandra walked over to Draco and smiled. "It suits you," she said.

          Then Draco noticed Harry and his eyes narrowed.

          "Yeah, it suits you perfectly, Draco," Harry said, agreeing. "Always knew you'd turn yourself over to the dark side. Oh, did I say dark? Sorry, I meant black."

          Malfoy looked at Cassandra then back to Harry. "What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked.

          "Practising Quidditch," Harry answered simply. Draco looked confused, but then understood. He simply frowned, embarrassed, his cheeks shading a slight tint of red. "Speaking of which," Harry went on, "I hope you're ready for our next game."

          "Not until after Christmas," Draco stated. "Plenty of time for us to get ready to whoop your asses."

          "Yeah? Well we don't need time," Harry pounced back. "My team could beat you anytime, and you know it."

          Draco looked pissed. Harry was ready for a fight, though. He knew he could use his mind, but he couldn't give it away, so he had one hand in the pocket where his wand was, ready to pull it out if he needed to.

          "Come on Draco, just buy the robe and let's go," Cassandra pleaded, quietly. Harry had forgotten about her. He looked over at her face, and in it saw confusion, fear, and…something he couldn't quite place. Something secretive….

          "Yeah. Bye, Malfoy," Harry said as his rival was dragged over to the counter. "That robe goes great with your lightbulb of a head." Malfoy turned his head and glared, but knew he could do nothing more whilst Cassandra was there. Once the two had left the shop, Harry's frown disappeared. He felt a sudden rush of feeling placed on Malfoy that he didn't quite understand. He felt angry that he was with Cassandra. She was so nice. Malfoy was so…horrible.

          Harry shrugged off the feeling and decided on buying the robe for Ron. He paid for it with the coins from his pocket and exited the shop, heading for The Three Broomsticks where he said he'd meet up with everyone.

          Harry entered the Three Broomsticks and looked around, spotting Ron and the others in a far corner. It looked as though they had met up with Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting with them. Harry made his way through the throngs of people and pulled an empty chair round to sit by Lavender. "Hi," he said.

          "How did your little solitary shop go?" Parvati asked.

          Harry groaned. "Well, I bumped into Malfoy, saw his dark side, and had one of those moments where you'd really love to kick the shit out of him but can't because there are people there." Harry sighed.

          Ron laughed. "Who was there?"

          "Cassandra."

          Ron and Seamus grinned suggestively.

          Harry sighed again and frowned in annoyance. "Stop it, ok? There were lots of other people in the shop, there was no way I could start a fight with him. And I don't fancy Cassandra – besides, she's going out with Malfoy."

          Ron gasped sarcastically. "No…never!" Harry smiled wryly. "Seriously though," Ron continued; "You didn't really think you had a chance with a Slytherin?"

          "No, I didn't," Harry said shortly. "Because I don't want a chance with a Slytherin." Harry was really starting to get annoyed. He knew they were only trying to help, but it had only been a few months. How did they expect him to be over Hermione?

          "Harry, you do know that we wouldn't care if you fancied this new girl, right?" Neville put in.

          "Yeah, because it is ok to like someone else. Someone new," Dean said.

          Harry frowned and looked round at all their faces. Sympathy…he didn't need sympathy. Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Look, I don't like her ok, so shut the hell up!" Harry said loudly. "And I don't need you trying to get me off Hermione!"

          At the mention of Hermione's name, most people in The Three Broomsticks had heard and looked over at the gang to see what was going on. Harry ignored the stares. Ron looked sorry, and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. "I won't forget her that easily, ok?"

          Ron nodded slowly. Harry leaned back again and stared down at his butterbeer which had been pre-ordered for him before he had walked in. He lifted it up and drank a bit. Slowly, sound rose up again and everyone around started talking as if nothing had happened. They were used to big scenes; nothing new had just happened.

          The gang started to talk about Christmas, and Harry joined in, trying to forget that he had just been really angry at them. The last thing he needed was to lose another friend…

          Harry was with Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Snape, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher in a random classroom somewhere on the second floor. Harry had reached Dumbledore's office finding them all standing outside, saying there wasn't enough room for them to have a meeting in his office. Dumbledore spelled the door shut, so that they wouldn't get any interruptions, and put a sound-proof spell on the walls so that no one could here.

          Harry was sitting on a table next to Sirius whilst Remus, Snape, Arabella and Mundungus sat in various chairs around them, and Dumbledore standing at the front, holding the only witness to young Martha's tragic and sudden death – the mirror.

          "I have been studying this mirror for a long time," said Dumbledore loudly. "After what Harry here said about the riddle on the back, I have been pondering with my pensive over it for quite some time. I think I may have figured it out, although I am not certain." Dumbledore lifted the mirror up high and stared at the back. "I have no idea what this says," he said, and looked over at Harry. "But I trust you are right in what you translated: The blood will not stop, the pain shall go on, 'till the heir to the light, shall step forward and fight."

          Harry glanced at Sirius whose face gave nothing away, then turned back to Dumbledore. No one said anything. "So…what do we think?"

          Dumbledore's face didn't change one bit. "Is it not obvious? The heir of Salazar Slytherin must have written this; he wants to fight the heir of Godric Griffindor; it must be that otherwise why would he have left the mirror here? And until they do meet and fight, he will not stop killing." Harry had always been astounded by Dumbledore's wisdom, but the head master still managed to surprised him even now. As soon as he had finished speaking, it clicked in Harry's mind; he thought he should have known that, it was now becoming so obvious to him. That's what the riddle meant.

          Though something did puzzle Harry. "Um, professor?"

          "Yes, Harry?"

          "Assuming this is Voldemort we're talking about, surely, after he has fought the heir of Griffindor, if he doesn't win, he's dead, but if he does win, and kills this person, the killing won't stop. Wouldn't it just get easier for him to kill and take over?"

          A few moments silence. Everyone looked at Harry and Harry willed his ears not to shade red. If only he were a girl with long hair, he could cover his barbecue ears. Dumbledore smiled. "It seems Mr. Potter can still manage to amaze me with his thoughts." Harry was surprised. He thought that _he were the one being amazed._

          "Who's the heir to Godric Griffindor anyway?" Harry asked.

          Dumbledore turned away. "We don't know," Sirius said to the right of him. Harry turned and looked into his Godfather's angry eyes. "If only we did, we could stop all this really quickly."

          Harry sensed something bad. "What's happened?" he asked. Sirius looked away awkwardly. "I'm not stupid, ok, I know something's happened!" He turned to Dumbledore, who had his back to him. "What is it?" he asked again.

          Strangely, it was Snape who answered him. He stood gravely, standing in front of Harry and looking into his eyes. "There's been another death."

          Harry's eyes widened in horror. "Who?" he asked weakly. No answer. "Who?" he said more strongly.

          Dumbledore turned to face him. "Colin Creevey."

          Harry went a pale white and said nothing. Colin had been in Griffindor. Just a year below him. He'd been so excited to see Harry when he first arrived at Hogwarts. They had actually been quite good friends once Colin had stopped admiring him so much.

          No one said anything. There were no words to explain the horror that everyone felt in the room. Harry closed his eyes and clenched his fists tightly, letting them rest on his knees. He heard Dumbledore's voice say something about having to send the students home, but Harry wasn't really listening. Voldemort had killed so many. When was he ever going to stop? Never. Until he was stopped. Harry opened his eyes to see Sirius' hand on his fist sympathetically. Harry released his fists, but didn't release his anger. He was going to get revenge. But how?

          Then Harry remembered that Dumbledore didn't know yet about his secret. "Professor," Harry said, not realising he was interrupting something that Dumbledore and Arabella were discussing. They turned their heads to Harry. "There's…there's something I should probably tell you…"

          "Yes, Harry?"

          Harry took a deep face and looked over at the blackboard behind Dumbledore. Everyone turned to the blackboard to try and see what Harry was looking at. Harry picked up the little piece of chalk resting on the ledge and it flew to his hand. He held it out in his palm and looked at it for a few seconds as if checking it was there, and then turned to see what Dumbledore's expression was. For the first time in Harry's life, Dumbledore looked…surprised. Harry had always assumed that Dumbledore knew or sensed everything. Obviously this had gone past him.

          "How long have you been able to do this?" asked Sirius gently, still staring at the piece of chalk. He reached out and took it from Harry's hand.

          "Since the summer," Harry admitted. "I meant to tell you sooner, but…"

          "Can you do anything else?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting Harry's reluctant apology.

          Harry nodded. "Yes."

          "Show me."


	11. Griffindor's Heir

Dumbledore sat down in deep thought. Harry looked at him expectantly whilst everyone else continued to stare at him as if he were a monkey in a zoo. Well, Harry kind of supposed he was. Everyone else was normal. He was now officially a freak with extra powers.

When Dumbledore finally spoke, it wasn't with words Harry had expected. "Harry," he started slowly, "I have…expected this to happen for quite some time. Although, I expected it to happen sooner. Maybe in your fifth year. I had almost given up this theory of mine but today you've have proved me right. Thank you."

Harry blinked. "Right," he said slowly. "Um, that's ok, I guess…"

Dumbledore looked at Sirius. They had obviously been talking about him. Sirius looked at Harry seriously (a/n: no pun intended). "Harry, we…" He stopped and looked at Dumbledore.

Harry laughed out of his nervousness, and everyone in the room turned to stare at him. Harry grinned nervously. "If it's this hard to say maybe I don't wanna know!" he said weakly, trying to keep his grin steady.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Harry – we believe that you are the heir to Godric Griffindor."

Harry blinked again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. "Sorry, what?"

"You are Godric Griffindor's heir."

Harry leaned back in his chair and took in this thought. Godric Griffindor, co-founder of this school, supposedly one of the four greatest wizards in history, was supposed to be his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great…and so on, grandfather?

_Well, I supposed it makes sense. After all, what else would explain this mind thing I can do? But I didn't know that Griffindor could do that… Harry voiced this thought to Dumbledore._

"No, not many people do know that. But he could. It was one of his specialties, just as speaking parseltongue was one of Salazar's."

Harry frowned. He was still confused. "But, professor, why did the hat say to me in my first year that I would be good in Slytherin? I mean, I know I had all those things that Voldemort passed to me when he tried to kill me, but if I'm Godric's _heir, wouldn't that be stronger?"_

"Yes, but you only now realise the true strength of your powers. We only now know that you are Godric's heir. Or, think, at least. Even Tom Riddle didn't figure out he was Salazar's heir at first. It took you longer to hone in your powers, I must say."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. It meant that Voldemort (Tom Riddle) was stronger than he was. "Ok. So…I'm the heir to Griffindor, Voldemort's the heir to Slytherin… I have to fight him?" Harry's voice was quiet. Dumbledore didn't say anything. He simply leant back in his chair. Harry turned to Sirius and Remus in support, but neither spoke. "Are you saying that you are going to _let me go kick Voldemort's butt before he comes to find me first?" Harry's mouth was twitching into a strange smile. All these years, Ron and Hermione had always warned him against going to get revenge on Voldemort for what he did to his parents. They'd always kept a close eye on him. And now the head teacher, two strangers, a teacher, and two of his parents' closest friends were basically telling him that this was what he had to do?_

Sirius frowned. "Harry, are you ok?"

Harry stood up and grinned. "Yes, I'm fine. I've been wanting someone to say this to me for a long time. Voldemort has hurt me too many times for me to pass an opportunity like this. Let's do this." He turned to Dumbledore who was smiling proudly. "When do we do it?"

Ron's mouth dropped open as Harry finished speaking. They were in the library, where Harry had found Ron, after his meeting with Dumbledore and the others had finished. Ron stood up, but Harry placed a firm hand o his shoulder and pushed him back open. Ron's mouth was still open, so Harry shut it for him, laughing. "You are heir to Griffindor?" he whispered, pointing at him slowly.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, it was a shock to me, too. But it makes sense, right? With all these new things I can do…"

"Harry, that's brilliant!!" Ron stood up and pulled Harry into an over-enthusiastic hug.

"Ok…" Harry pulled away smiling at Ron. "What's this about?!"

Ron sat down again and so did Harry. "That means that you're not evil!"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"My dad said that this year, with everyone getting older, there might be some new things happening, strong powers and stuff coming out of shells. He said they were most likely to be evil powers, happening to evil people. When you showed me that white queen shoot into your hand, I was really worried, and tried not to think about it. But then when you killed that hermitan with the really powerful, supposed-to-be-hard spell, I knew, or, I thought that Dad was probably right."

Harry smiled and raised both his eyebrows this time. "Well, that explains a lot!" he said laughing.

Ron laughed as well. The sound that Harry knew well from his best friend – but suddenly – it stopped. It didn't die down. It just stopped. Ron's smile disappeared and his face went white. "Ron?" Harry looked worried and stopped laughing as well. "What? What is it?"

Ron looked angry, but didn't frown. "You said you were going after Voldemort."

"Well, yeah…"

"How…how could you…how could you do that?"

"Ron, we've already been through this. Both my parents and Hermione meant the world to me. And I lost them both. The price of my life was theirs. But don't you see? It's all part of the plan. They died so that I could live to stop Voldemort. They helped me to stay alive so that I could stop Voldemort – I can't just dismiss this and pretend all this stuff isn't happening to me, can I?" Ron was quiet. "I'm the heir to Godric Griffindor – that means a lot more than some people may think. I have to do this, Ron. I…I want to do this."

Ron frowned and his mouth fell open. "You _want to? Ok, you can think of it as your destiney, if you want, whatever, but you actually __want to?" Harry tried to explain, but Ron stood up, not letting him. "What about me? What would I do if you died? I've already lost Hermione!"_

Harry stood as well, frowning. Ron scorned, "Oh, is it such a big surprise that I miss Hermione? Sorry, did you forget that she was my best friend as well? Did you forget all those years the three of us spent together before you two decided you were in love?"

"Ron, we never left you out or anything…"

"No. No you didn't. You two were the best friends I've ever had – and ever will have probably. We went through everything together…and you didn't think I would miss her?"

"No, of course I thought you would miss her, I just…" Harry didn't no what to say.

"You just thought that you missed her more, did you?" Ron dropped his voice to a low whisper. "I would give anything to have her back again, just like you would. _Anything. And now you're thinking of leaving me too." Ron picked up his books and stormed out of the library. Harry sat down, mouth open, frowning in confusion._

Ron didn't speak to Harry for days. Harry attempted to speak to Ron, but after a while, seeing it wasn't working, he gave up. If anyone noticed this rift in their friendship, no one mentioned it, although whenever Ron and Harry were in the same room together, people did look up, expecting to see a fight. Usually, in these situations, Harry would look at Ron, his eyes pleading with him, but Ron would look away, and walk on past, and so Harry would do the same. And talk sprung up again.

Hallowe'en came and went, with no special tricks from the Griffindors; although they themselves were set upon by thousands of mice in their common room, whose bites turned your skin temporarily green, much to the Slytherins' amusement. Everyone had expected Harry, Ron, and the others to come up with something to get the Slytherins back with, but with Harry and Ron's "disagreement" (for no one knew exactly why they weren't talking), Dean, Seamus, Neville, Parvati and Lavender thought it would be unsuitable to think up something without them.

In their fourth year, there had been a time when Harry and Ron hadn't spoken. It had been during the "Triwizard Tournament" – a tournament in which different seventh years competed in dangerous competitions. Harry's name had been chosen; even though he hadn't signed himself up for it, and was a fourth year. Everyone thought he had signed himself up, though. And Ron had got jealous, accusing Harry of always having to be the best, always having to win everything and be the famous one. They hadn't spoken for weeks. Harry remembered how he had felt then: horrible and lonely. But what he felt now was ten times worse. Because back then, he knew that Ron was in the wrong. But now, Harry knew exactly why Ron was angry, and he didn't blame him.

Harry was depressed. He had lost Hermione, Ron was angry at him, and he was walking himself slowly into death. Dumbledore had already started on the plans to seek out Voldemort. The one thing that drove Harry crazy was: _Would any of this be happening if Hermione were still alive? Probably not, Harry concluded. Because he wouldn't be so driven with the idea of revenge that he probably wouldn't have agreed to helping Dumbledore. And even if Harry had wanted to agree, Ron would have ignored him and been angry at him, like he was doing just then, and Hermione would have pleaded with him not to. Both forces usually worked on Harry in the end. But right then it was just Ron. And Harry wasn't sure whether that was enough to change his mind._

He did like his life (apart from the one at home with his lovable Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley, who, still, after 16 years of looking after him, hated his guts). But did Harry like his life more than he hated Voldemort? He wasn't sure. All he knew was the pain that he'd been through…he didn't want anyone else to have to feel that.

So was Ron right? _Was Harry just trying to be a hero and look good that he died facing up to Voldemort? He didn't know. He didn't know anything. He felt lost and alone. He needed help. But he couldn't ask anyone for advice. He couldn't ask Dumbledore; all he would say was, "It is your life, Harry; it is up to you to make your own life decisions." Sirius would probably remind him that his parents sacrificed their lives for him, and Remus would remind him that Voldemort was an evil criminal who needed to be stopped. Harry already knew that Ron was against it, and Hermione was dead. Who else was there? No one. No one else knew Harry well enough to advise him._

Of course, there was Hagrid…

"Hagrid?" Harry banged on the door again and again. No answer. It was raining, and Harry wrapped his cloak around him as he shivered from the cold. He took a few steps back as he heard Fang bound to the door. The door opened and Fang leapt out, just missing Harry, as he ran into the warmth of the little hut.

Harry walked straight over to the fire and stood by it, shaking. He could hear Hagrid do something in the kitchen, and then appeared to the left of him holding two warm cups of coffee. Harry took a cup, "Thanks, Hagrid," and sat down.

Hagrid sat down on the chair opposite him across the table. His expression was a worried one. " 'Arry, you haven't visited me in a while."

"I know, I'm sorry, Hagrid. I've had…I've had a lot of things on my mind."

"I can see that." Hagrid leaned forward and set his quickly-empty coffee cup down. Harry still had some left, and warmed his hands on the outside of the cup. Hagrid leaned back again comfortably. "What's wrong, 'arry?"

Harry took a deep breath, and slowly explained everything that had happened in the last month or so to Hagrid. He knew that he could trust Hagrid, and so also told him about a certain wizard called Godric being an ancestor of his, and surprised Hagrid by making his fire leap up higher and send out even more warmth.

Hagrid was surprised by what Harry told and showed him, but managed to stay calm and didn't leap out of his chair in fright, much as Harry had expected him to do. Though he didn't say anything for a while, and Harry was afraid to speak; he didn't want to interrupt Hagrid's thoughts.

After a few minutes, just as Harry was going to give in, Hagrid spoke, in a quiet, thoughtful tone (which was quite rare for him). " 'Arry, I know ya gonna be angry, but… I already knew 'bout all this."

Harry leaned slowly back in his chair. He already knew? "Well…how…how did you know?"

"Something you should also know…Professor Dumbledore has known for as long as I 'ave."

Harry was surprised. "So…why has he only told me now?"

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "He…he wanted to protect ya. Couldn't 'ave the whole school knowing you was Griffindor's heir. 'E thought it would complicate things."

"Well…" Harry didn't know what to say. He thought he should stay quiet and let Hagrid talk for a bit.

Hagrid got the hint (Harry was staring at him expectantly) and sighed. "Well, for starters, o' course your mum and dad knew. It was on your dad's side o' the fam'ly, o' course. James never told no one, 'cept for his Lily, and Professor Dumbledore. When ya parents died, the only people who were told was Sirius and Remus, as they were close friends, and me and Arabella Figg. He thought we could help protect you. Arabella at home and me 'ere. Professor Dumbledore said he would 'elp keep an eye on ya as well, but being a Headmaster o' a school like this one, it's a tough job. He said he would tell ya when the time was right, but, I din't think that he would tell ya when you were still in school. It's gettin' bad though, 'arry, as you o' all peoples should know. I guess he thought he 'ad to tell ya."

The fact that all of the adults closest to Harry at that moment, had known something about him all his life, and had never told him, angered him a little. "So…so that's why I was put onto the Hogwarts list," he said slowly. "Dumbledore knew that one day, he would need me. Sorry, no, he would need my powers…"

" 'Arry, don't put it like that. It makes Professor Dumbledore sound bad. He only did what anyone would do. We need ya, 'arry. V-V-… you-know-oo aint gonna go away ya know…"

"I know. You need me," Harry said quietly. He looked directly at Hagrid then. "So, basically, I have no choice. I came to you for advice, then you come right out and say that I have no choice whether I want to die or not. It's in my blood, it's what my parents would have wanted of me…"

Hagrid looked troubled, and leaned forward. "O' course ya 'ave a choice, 'arry. No one's gonna force ya to do anyfin. It's your life. All I was tryin' ta say, was…"

"That I am like a tool in the universe. I might as well be a rabbit for God's sake. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am Godric's heir, and therefore I have no choice in my destiny." Harry stood up. "Well I'm tired of not being in charge of my life." Harry did then what he had wanted to do for a long time. He burst into tears, and ran out of Hagrid's hut into the cold desolate life he had always known.

Hermione sat on the arm of the sofa that Harry was sitting on. He grabbed her arm and held onto her hand softly, stroking it. Hermione slid from the arm into the space next to Harry, and he slid his fingers more firmly into her hand, smiling. She smiled back. "Don't let anyone force you into anything, Harry. It's your life." Harry continued to smile into her lovely face. "All that matters is that we're together." Harry leaned in to kiss her, and when he pulled back, Hermione had gone, and Cassandra was sitting there.

Harry just smiled. He felt happy. Cassandra smiled back, and they both turned to Harry's parents. "The two sides – united in peace at last," said Lily formally. She turned to James and kissed him on the cheek. James smiled at Lily then at Harry. Harry turned back to Cassandra, who kissed him again on the lips. She pulled back. "I love you, Harry…"

Harry shot up in bed, sweating. He looked around him anxiously. No one was there. He reached for his glasses and put them on, laying back down again, shaking. What troubled him about the dream wasn't exactly that Cassandra had seemed to replace Hermione. It was that he felt happier with Cassandra…

a/n: ok, before you get scared and worried and angry with the Cassandra/Hermione thing, I want you all to take deep breaths and calm yourselves!! DON'T HURT ME! I'm sorry! But worry not, my friends. It will all be sorted out in the end. For the time being though, REVIEW!!

~rowan

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	12. A New Temptation

"Harry?" Seamus waved a hand over Harry's face. "Hello?"

          Harry's head slipped off his hand and he banged his elbow on the side of the table. "Ow!" Harry rubbed his arm. "What?" he asked, turned to Seamus.

          Seamus laughed. "Oh, nothin', nothing'…" he said, shaking his head. Harry folded his arms down on the table and rested his head onto them. Seamus smiled and stuck his head round in front of Harry's. "Harry? You don't really seem…well…yourself, today…"

          "What is myself?" Harry murmured simply. "I am nothing but a tool, what do I matter…"

          Seamus frowned, worried and confused by this. He straightened himself and stood up, walking over to Dean. Dean whispered something to him and pointed over to the fire, where Ron was sitting on the floor, quill poised over a piece of parchment, not moving. Seamus nodded to Dean and walked over to Ron. "You alright, mate?" he asked, sitting himself on the floor opposite Ron.

          "Yeah," Ron answered, offering nothing more. He was frowning down at his parchment.

          Seamus studied the parchment then laughed, seeing the heading. "You do know that that Transfiguration homework is due in in an hour, don't you?"

          Ron nodded. "Yep."

          "And, you haven't even started…"

          "I know."

          Seamus frowned. "Look, Ron, do you want some help? You seem a bit stuck…"

          "No, that's alright, I'm fine thanks."

          Seamus put his hands back on the floor and leaned his weight on them. When Ron said nothing more, he stood up and walked over to a table, grabbing a book. He walked back over to Ron and opened the first page, sticking it in Ron's face. "Here, this might help, since the homework is based on this chapter?"

          Ron nodded slowly. "Right, thanks." He scanned the book then wrote a word down. He was just about to write another word when he stopped, quill touching the paper, causing a lot of ink to leak from the tip of his quill. "Uh, Ron?" Seamus said. Nothing. "Ron?" Still nothing. Seamus poked him. "Oi, Ron!"

          Ron shook his head and looked up at Seamus angrily. "What is it, Seamus? I'm trying to do my homework." He looked back down at his paper and started to write again. Seamus stood up slowly, confused, and walked over to Dean.

          "Verdict?" whispered his best friend. Seamus shook his head. He looked over to Ron who had once more, stopped his quill, and then over to Harry, who had his head in his arms, and seemed to be muttering things to himself.

          "I have no idea, Dean," said Seamus quietly. "But I've got the feeling that something bad is going on."

          Harry and Ron walked to Transfiguration in different routes, but, funnily enough, they met at exactly the same time at the door of the classroom. Their faces showed very different expressions. Harry's brow was worried and confused, Ron's was just angry. "After you," Harry said quietly. Ron walked passed wordlessly, but stopped suddenly. Harry walked in to see that the only two chairs left were seated next to each other. Harry looked at Ron, who just stared at the two seats, as if willing them to move further apart. Professor McGonagall came rushing in then, knowing she was late, and almost bumped into the boys. She ushered them along to their seats and reluctantly, they sat down.

          Ron got his things out and set them down on his desk, then fluttered his eyes up to McGonagall, eyes never wavering. Harry glanced at Ron, then back to the front, where McGonagall had started teaching the lesson. "So, this is how it's going to be, huh? You're just going to never speak to me ever again?"

          "Yep," Ron whispered back. The two were still not looking at each other.

          "I need to tell you some stuff…" Harry started.

          "Yeah, well, I'm not interested, ok?"

          That hurt Harry. Ron was saying he didn't want anything to do with him, and that hurt Harry like a knife going through his heart. He frowned and looked to the front. "Wow, thanks a lot," he whispered. "It's nice to know you care."

          Ron was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry, ok? I do care…"

          "Then why aren't you talking to me?"

          "Because you don't care about me!" Their voices had risen a bit, and McGonagall shushed at them to hush. They apologised quickly, and she went back to her book that was in her hands.

          Harry glanced at Ron again. "Of course I care about you; you're my best friend, idiot! Look, I'm really, really sorry, ok? I can't believe I never thought about how you were missing Hermione. I was so caught up in my feelings for her, I…I'm sorry…"

          Ron didn't say any more to him all lesson, but Harry felt that things would probably get better. Near the end of the lesson, Ron turned to Harry. "So what did you want to tell me?"

          Harry grinned. "So, we're friends again?"

          Ron grinned back. "Of course." He stuck a formal hand out, and said in a posh voice, "It's a delight to be back at your side, Mr. Potter."

          Harry laughed and shook the hand. "Same to you, Mr. Weasley."

          They grinned at each other and packed their things away. Across the room, to Harry and Ron's disknowledge (lol – not a real word, must change!!!! Any ideas??) Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, and Neville were all smiling at the two happily.

          In Potions, Snape seemed to be in a good mood, so he let them choose the partners they wanted to make their potion. Harry had planned, obviously, to go with Ron – he wanted to tell him stuff – but Ron said he'd already promised to go with Neville, who really needed help. And Dean and Seamus, Lavender and Parvati were already partnered together. Harry stood up, scanning the classroom for anyone without a partner.

          Cassandra. She was looking around anxiously, also trying to find a partner, Harry assumed. Malfoy wasn't there – he must have fallen ill or something. Could Harry really go with Cassandra? A Slytherin and a Griffindor? He knew it was just for a lesson, but there were still rules. Oh well, there wasn't anyone else. Harry stood up and walked over to her. "Hi Cassandra," he said smiling. He sat down next to her.

          "Oh, hi Harry." Cassandra smiled back. "Aren't there rivalry rules or something?!"

          Harry laughed. "Yes, but we have an excuse: everyone else has partnered up already."

          Cassandra smiled flirtatiously. "Isn't that the reason you're sitting next to me? 'Cause there's no one else? You just said that was an _excuse_."

          Harry burned red. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it. Instead he laughed. "Don't twist my words – you know what I mean!"

          Cassandra laughed her musical laugh again, and stood up. They both got the different ingredients needed and got to work on the extra-powerful truth spell they were cooking up. "So where's Malfoy?" Harry asked conversationally.

          "Why do you care? You hate him."

          Harry laughed. "Exactly. I wouldn't want to miss out on an opportunity to make fun of him being ill!"

          Cassandra smiled lightly. "He's got a cold. Thought he'd take the day off." She paused, and didn't say anything for a while. Harry hoped he hadn't offended her; she liked Malfoy. "Why do you two the each other so much?"

          Harry stopped what he was doing, and stared at the cauldron. Slowly, he flipped the pages of the book they were reading from and pretended to be very interested in the pages. "Um, well, number of reasons, I guess…" he said slowly.

          "Like what?" Harry looked at Cassandra. Wasn't it obvious? Did he really need to spell it out for her? Malfoy was a Slytherin, Harry was a Griffindor. Malfoy's dad was a Death Eater (or so Harry assumed that he was again), Harry's parents had been killed by the one his family served. Harry looked away and mumbled something.

          "What was that?" Cassandra asked innocently. Harry looked at her again, and her eyelashes shut together and drifted apart slowly. He stared at her a moment, taking in this beauty, then shook his head and looked back down at his book. Since when was a Slytherin allowed to be so beautiful?

          "Well…" Harry coughed, still not looking at her. "We've been rivals since the first day at Hogwarts." Cassandra didn't say anything, so Harry went on. "Well, first of all, he's a Slytherin. And…they say that, that all Slytherins go bad." Cassandra didn't respond to this at all. She simply blinked again and waited for more. Harry didn't like giving the girlfriend of the one he hated a list of reasons why he hated the one he hated. "Plus, there's the fact that he was mean about Hagrid and Ron. My first friends here." Harry stopped, realising that he sounded stupid. Instead of going on about Malfoy, he got angry. "Look, Cassandra, why are you even going out with Malfoy?"

          Cassandra looked surprised by this question. She blinked again and raised her eyebrows. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting that. "W-What do you mean?"

          "Well…you two are just really different, that's all."

          Cassandra smiled to herself. The smile was quick, and it faded quickly, but Harry had seen it. "We're not that different, Harry," she said quietly and confidently. She smiled suggestively and touched his arm. Harry felt shivers shooting up it and tried hard not to move at the sudden touch. Cassandra slowly moved closer to Harry and touched his tie. She looked at it a moment, then up into Harry's eyes. "I mean, we're both in Slytherin, aren't we?" Harry gulped. "How do you know I'm not as bad as he is?" she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and moved her mouth to his ear. Harry closed his eyes slowly and breathed in deeply. She smelled so lovely. "How do you know?" she whispered again.

          Suddenly Harry heard a cough and opened his eyes. Cassandra moved quickly away from Harry, blushing. Harry turned to see Snape frowning at him. Harry looked quickly around, but no one was looking. He turned back to Snape who had raised an eyebrow at Cassandra. "Mixing with the Griffindors, are we Miss _Leaks_?" Cassandra didn't say anything, and Harry tried not to think too much about Snape's big emphasis on her last name. Snape turned to Harry. "And have you finished your truth potion yet, Mr. Potter?"

          "No, professor," Harry said truthfully.

          "Ten points will be taken from Griffindor for lack of concentration. Make sure it's ready in five minutes or I'll take a further 20 points." Harry was just about to argue and say it was Cassandra as well, and shouldn't he take points from Slytherin as well, but then remembered what had happened last time with Snape, so decided to shut up.

          Snape walked away. Harry frowned and looked down at his cauldron. "Sorry," came Cassandra's voice from next to him.

          "How are we going to get this finished in five minutes?" Harry muttered. "We've barely started it."

          A pause. "I'll go get the other ingredients." Cassandra moved away. Harry was having a sudden thought. With all his new power…could he do something to the potion to make it complete? But Snape would find out; he knew about Harry being heir to Griffindor, he knew about his extra-specially power thingys.

          But he wouldn't necessarily realise that Harry had done that, would he? Anyway – what if this was a test? To see if Harry could complete the potion with his mind? Harry knew that Snape hated him, but they were part of the same team now.

          Harry concentrated on the small amount of liquid bubbling at the bottom. It began to rise into a bigger amount, and the colour changed from a murky grey to a light purple, just like the book said it was supposed to. Then it stopped and Harry smiled at his achievement. Only one way to test if it worked or not. Cassandra was still rummaging around in the ingredients cupboard, so Harry turned to his only other guinea-pig… Neville.

          "Neville?" Harry walked over holding a cup. 

Neville turned. "Yes, Harry?" Then he saw the cup and his eyes opened wide. "Oh no, no no NO, I am NOT taking your truth potion! Why is it always me?" Neville rambled for a bit like this while Ron laughed and Harry gave Neville his best pouty-look. Neville sighed. "Fine. But don't ask me anything too private, ok?"

Harry put a hand on his hip. "Would I do that to you, Neville?"

Ron laughed. Harry handed the cup to Neville, who drank. After a few moments, Harry asked, "Are you feeling ok, Neville?"

"Fine," Neville answered. "Why wouldn't I feel fine?"

Harry sighed in relief. "Ok, what's your favourite colour?"

"Orange." Harry turned to Ron for conformation, who nodded.

"Was that letter you got from your gran really just a Birthday card or was it a howler?" Ron asked, jumping in.

"It was a howler," Neville answered in a perfectly normal tone, as if he wasn't really under any spell at all. "She sent it to me because when I went home last weekend for my birthday I accidentally fed her dog Pipsy some crisps and they didn't quite agree with him and he had to be taken into hospital."

Ron and Harry laughed. "Now for the big one," Ron said, taking in a deep breath. "Who's this mystery girl you keep talking about?"

Neville opened his mouth to answer, but Harry put his hand around his mouth and glared at Ron. "Mean," Ron said grinning. "It was just getting good."

Harry smiled. "He'll be like this for another hour, so don't ask him such private things, ok?"

Ron grinned, and put one hand on his hip. "Would I do that to you, Neville?" he said, trying to sound like Harry. Harry laughed and walked back over to his table. Cassandra was sitting, staring at the potion. She looked up as Harry approached. "You finished it? How?"

Harry was just about to answer (although he wasn't sure what to say) when Snape wandered over, smiling cruelly. "So, Potter…you finished the potion yet?"

Harry tried hard not to smile. "Yes, professor."

Snape looked taken aback. "Well," he stuttered, "Have, have you tested it? To see if it works?"

"Yes, professor. I've just tried it out on Neville. It seemed to work quite well."

Snape glanced over at Neville, who was surrounded by a few people who were laughing. Poor Neville, thought Harry grinning. Snape looked back at him and catched his grin. "Fine," said Snape simply. "But I will however take a further five points for your cheekyness. And see me after the lesson."

Harry opened his mouth in protest, but Snape had already walked away. Cassandra smiled at him. "You were lucky," she said. "I'm guessing this is one of his good days?" Harry nodded, frowning angrily.

"Don't be angry," Cassandra said. They were still standing, and quite close together, and Cassandra put her hand out behind them and reached for Harry's hand. She gave it a little squeeze. Harry looked to her quickly in surprise. Cassandra smiled, and Harry couldn't help but smile back.

Across the room, Snape was, against everyone's knowledge, smiling at the unlikely pair in amusement.

a/n: please don't give me loads of reviews shouting at me! LoL. Just wait for the next chapter…ooh…  


	13. The Return Of The Boggarts

Everyone left the classroom in a hurry; it was Defence Against the Dark Arts next, and with Professor Lupin teaching them, it was a really fun lesson. Apparently today they were looking back on Boggarts, which the class were quite excited about, because although they hated doing it themselves, it was quite fun watching other people have to get rid of the thing they feared most while watching it stand before them.

            Harry stayed behind though, to talk to Snape. He walked up to his desk anxiously, knowing that no good would come out of the conversation they were about to have. Snape sat down in his chair, fingers linked, waiting for Harry to reach his desk. When he did, Harry looked up but said nothing. He merely waited for the words that got him in trouble.

            "Mr. Potter…" Snape started. He didn't say anything else though. His mouth stayed open for a bit, and then sighed and shut itself.

            "Um…what did you want to see me about, sir?" Harry asked nervously.

            Snape paused. "You were messing around in my class today, Mr. Potter."

            Harry wasn't quite sure what he wanted him to say. "I know, I'm…I'm sorry, sir," Harry said slowly, slightly confused by the way their conversation had started.

            "Right, well, that's good then," Snape said stuttering. "Well, off you go then. We don't want you to miss Professor Lupin's class."

            Harry nodded and walked towards the door feeling very confused. "Oh, and one last thing..." Harry stopped and turned round. Snape was frowning. "You'd do well to stay away from Miss Leaks."

            Harry frowned. "W-why?"

            "Just trust me on this one, Mr. Potter. I know we haven't been the best of friends for the last few years," _well that's a big understatement, _thought Harry, "but remember, we're on the same team now."

            As Harry walked out of the classroom, he heard Snape call after him, "In your next lesson with Professor Lupin, make sure you don't miss what her Boggart turns into."

            Harry practically ran to DADA, not wanting to miss anything. He was still confused about Snape. Did he know something about Cassandra that Harry didn't? Probably, as she was in his house, but if it was something bad, then surely, he would tell him, wouldn't he?

            Harry walked into the classroom. Remus looked up at him and smiled. "Sorry I'm late, Professor Snape wanted to talk to me." Remus simply nodded and Harry walked over to sit with Ron. He looked around for Cassandra and saw her sitting near the back with Malfoy, who looked a bit pale.

            "I thought Malfoy wasn't coming in today?" Harry whispered to Ron, still staring in Cassandra and Malfoy's direction.

            "And I thought that you didn't care those two were going out," Ron whispered back. Harry frowned at his grinning friend, and then they both turned their attention to the head of the class.

            "Now I know you've probably heard from the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws that we're going to be re-looking at Boggarts today," Remus said, smiling cheerily. "I know we did it in your third year, but I thought it would be good to remind you about all this. Now, as I'm sure you remember, all you have to do is laugh at it when the Boggart comes out of the box, disguised as the one thing you fear most in this world; which, obviously, is a lot easier to say than to do. Standing up to your biggest fear is one of the hardest things to do. But let's have a go anyway, shall we?" Everyone stood up and clustered around the big box that stood next to Remus. "It's good practice to laugh away your fears, and I'm sure it will help you later on in life, for whatever reasons."

            Each person in turn stood up to the box confidently, cowered back as whatever it was came out of the box (spiders, fire, and in one case, a lamppost), laughed nervously, and watched it turn to smoke and drift back into the box. Harry waited eagerly for Cassandra to step forward, remembering Snape's words.

            When they had had a go at this in their third year, they hadn't been with the Slytherins, and Harry was interested to know what Malfoy's biggest fear was. It turned out to be Werewolves. When they had been in their first year, Harry, Ron, Neville and Malfoy had had a detention in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid, and Malfoy had complained then about werewolves being in the forest. Harry and Remus raised their eyebrows at each other in amusement. Remus was a werewolf, which everyone else knew, but had obviously chosen to forget about.

            Next it was Cassandra's turn. Harry sucked in his breath. The box opened… out came a boy about her size. It was Harry…

            Everyone looked at Cassandra, who was doing very well not to pay any attention to the fact that her biggest fear was a boy standing in the very same room as her. Then all the stares turned to Harry, who was frowning in confusion, looking at the image of himself.

            Remus smiled in amusement, but was still frowning. "Well, well…" was all he said.

            Cassandra laughed at the figure of Harry, who turned into smoke and escaped back into its box. There was utmost stillness and silence in the classroom as everyone waited for Cassandra to react. Most of all Harry. Had Snape known that that was what Cassandra would see?

            Remus clapped his hands together to break the silence. A few people jumped. "Right then, I think that'll do for today. The rest of you can have a turn tomorrow." Everyone walked back to their seats and grabbed their stuff, bumbling with curiosity over Cassandra's strange fear.

            "What the hell was that about?" Ron said to Harry. A few of his friends clustered around Harry, all talking to them at once, but he simply pushed past them and walked over to Cassandra. He opened his mouth to say something but she just said, "Not now," and ran from the classroom, leaving Harry to stare after her in confusion.

            _You didn't have to go to that lesson, you know that._

_            Of course I know that but it would've aroused more suspicion had I _not _gone._

_            Maybe you wanted to go. Maybe you wanted everyone to see what your biggest fear is…which we'll have to talk about by the way._

_            Oh for Hell's sake…I don't know any more than you do about why Harry came out of there! I thought something silly like a spider or something would come out. I think we were supposed to think about what we feared most first, before it came out, but I just thought I'd – go with the flow…_

_            Look Cassandra, I love you darling, but if you ruin this…_

_            I'm not going to ruin it! You have to trust me, ok?_

_            Hmm. Well, I'd better go. I'll talk to you later. Watch it._

_            I will. Bye._

            "You're Cassandra's biggest fear?" Seamus said again for the tenth time.

            "It would appear so," said Harry, frowning.

            "…You're Cassandra's biggest fear?!" Seamus said again. Dean threw a pillow at him.

            "Yes, I think we've established that fact, Seamus. Thanks for reminding us so many times."

            Seamus pulled the pillow off him angrily. He stuck his tongue out at Dean childishly, when no one was looking.

            Ron glanced at Harry. "You know why?"

            "Of course not!" Harry said frowning. "I've only known her for a few weeks – why the hell would I be her biggest fear? It's not like…" Harry stopped, mouth open. He closed his eyes. **Well, yes; that would certainly make a helluva lotta sense,**said his mind. 

_No it wouldn't! _Harry argued back. _That is very unlikely; we've only just met for crying out loud! And besides – even if that WAS true, there are plenty more things to be scared about._

**What about if her family's pure blood, and one like Malfoy's? Maybe her family are all evil like his. That would put a lot of pressure on the girl. Then it could be possible.**

While Harry was sitting with his eyes closed, tossing this new thought around in his mind, he didn't realise that his friends were staring at him, waiting to come back and to tell them what he was thinking. Harry's eyes snapped open. "Well?" asked Ron after Harry didn't say anything.

"Huh?" said Harry stupidly.

Ron shook his head and looked at the others. "What do you think it is?" asked Neville, taking over from Ron.

"Oh nothing, nothing. I don't know, just a thought…" said Harry shrugging. He yawned. "Ok, I'm going to sleep now. I'm tired. Goodnight." He lay back down and tried to shut his curtains, but Ron's hand struck out and caught the edge of the curtain. "What is it, Harry? Tell me," said Ron, frowning at his best friend.

"If I knew, I would tell you wouldn't I? Goodnight." Harry shut the curtains and lay back down on his mattress. He pulled his covers over him and lay on his side. He stared at his curtains, eyes wide awake; his heart was pounding so loud he thought he would never sleep.

a/n: im baAak!!! Sorry it'd been a while, my computer broke. Grr. but im back now YAY so review pleeeeeeeaze. 

~rowan

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	14. Snowflakes

A/N: from Draco's POV for a bit.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and stretched out. He swung his legs over one side of the bed. Being as efficient as he was, Draco didn't like to lie in. He liked to get up as soon as he woke, to get the most out of the days.

            His first thought was of, of course, Cassandra. He loved her fiery mystery. They say opposites attract; a blond haired kid with a black haired kid. What could be more perfect? And Draco also saw that in their personalities. He was "the bad boy" of the school, and she was so sweet and innocent. His companions, Crabbe and Goyle, made jokes that he would have to break that about her. And Draco joined in the laughter. But truth was, he loved that most about her. He loved that she was different. The first Slytherin to ever have an innocent side. Draco liked that difference; it was kind of like a new challenge for him. And he intended on keeping that challenge.

            But she still never opened up to him.

            Draco pulled on his shirt and cloak then grabbed his trousers. He and Cassandra had been… 

"a couple", for weeks now. And it was like she still didn't trust him. Whenever he asked her about her family, or where she lived, she just immediately changed the subject, or smiled mysteriously, or met his lips with a kiss he could never resist.

            Draco sat back down on his bed and put his feet into his shoes, tying the laces. Well, whatever the reason for her keeping her secrets, he was sure he would get it out of her eventually. He just had to give her time to trust him. Draco couldn't understand what problem she had with her family that she couldn't tell anyone about. After all, no one was worse than Draco's family.

            Lucius Malfoy was, in Draco's opinion, the worst human being there was. Apart from Lord Voldemort, who was just a little bit worse than his dad. Although no one knew (and Malfoy could never tell anyone, or he'd be dead in seconds), his father was Voldemort's "main man" or whatever it was called. That slithering snivel, Pettigrew, was just a servant, and weak. Lucius was the man who helped Voldemort with his evil schemes, and helped carry them out, when Voldemort was gathering more and more strength.

            And they wanted Draco to join them. "Never. Never, never," Malfoy muttered under his breath as he made his way out of the dungeons. He would never join Lord Voldemort. Not after he'd killed his mother…

            Draco hadn't told anyone this, obviously. Too much of a thing in common with Potter. Hainvg a mother dead. The comparisons would be endless. But he missed her. His mother had seemed harsh and a cruel person, much like Lucius, but she wasn't. Not unless Lucius beat her and forced her to seem that way. But when Draco went home at Christmas, she'd always have the house in massive decorations, especially for him, and they always had a lovely roast on Christmas day, whether Lucius was there or not. Usually he was down the pub, drinking away whatever sorrows he had.

            And now she was gone. She has refused to join the dark side and had tried to run away from Lucius, and Voldemort had killed her. Draco's father hadn't seemed too sad. All he'd said afterwards was, "Shame. She would have made a good colleague." His father had told Draco that she had just left him and that they were getting a divorce, but Draco saw through him. He wasn't stupid. He knew his mother would never leave him to the hands of Voldemort.

            Draco had cried endlessly. One thing no one knew about him; he did cry. His heart wasn't completely made of stone. The one person that had meant most to him had been taken away, by the one person he was supposed to help. Help Voldemort? No. He wasn't going to help Voldemort. He was going to kill Voldemort.

            Draco sat down at the Slytherin table and grabbed some toast, not talking to anyone, engrossed in his own thoughts. Then some sunlight came ripping through his darkened thoughts and rescued him back into the real world; it was Cassandra. "Hi," she said, sitting down next to him and kissing him on the cheek. Malfoy didn't say anything. He simply smiled at her beauty and innocence. "Last day of school!" Cassandra grinned.

            "Yeah. For you. It's just the last day of lessons for me."

            Cassandra looked confused. "I thought you said you went home every Christmas?"

            "I do. I mean, I did," Draco said. "I just thought I'd stay here this Christmas. You're going to your dad's right?" **_Perfect opportunity for me to ask her about her family, _**Draco thought. "So, where does he live?"

            Cassandra just shrugged. "Down South," she said simply. Draco was about to ask her more, when she cut in and spoke again. "I'll miss you over Christmas!" She kissed him on the lips and Draco closed his eyes, smiling at her tenderness.

            "Oh get a room," a scornful voice muttered, coming from behind them. Cassandra pulled away and Draco looked behind him, to see Ron and his little friends.

            "Get lost, Weasley," Draco said, annoyed.

            "No, no; this is too good an opportunity," Ron said, Dean and Seamus sniggering next to him.

            "For what?" Draco asked, sounding bored.

            "To make fun of you. There are so many jokes I could make right now!" Ron said, sounding clever. Dean and Seamus just laughed. Harry came forward and tugged on Ron's arm. "Can we go now?" he said quietly

            Draco frowned. "What's wrong, Potter? Is 'ittle Potter too tired to fight?"

            Harry didn't show any expression, just looked away, hands in his pockets. Draco looked at Cassandra who was staring down intently at her toast. **_I wonder…_**

            Draco stood up. "Cassandra, help me to smash Potter's brains in, will you?"

            Cassandra's eyes opened in horror and she looked as if she was going to protest. Then she shut her mouth again. It happened in a split second, but Draco knew exactly what it meant. He pointed at Harry in disbelief. "A Griffindor?" he said quietly, in amazement. "**_This_** Griffindor?" he said, his voice rising.

            Draco then turned to Potter in anger. He didn't think. One thing he had learned from his evil father was this; don't hesitate, never hesitate, go with your instincts in what you think is right. Draco punched Harry in the face. 

Harry frowned at Draco, confused, and so in the confusion wasn't ready for the fist that landed heavily in his face. He stumbled backwards, and fell over onto the floor, hand rushing straight to his already bleeding nose. He touched the blood and looked at his hand in disbelief. Malfoy had punched him? **_Punched_** him? Standing up shakily, with help from Dean (Seamus was busy trying to hold Ron back from attacking Malfoy), Harry said, "What happened to our lovely duels I love so much?"

"This way you weren't ready for it," Malfoy answered back cleverly. He was still seething with anger, and Harry failed to see what he had done to deserve this unprovoked attack, although he did know it was probably something to do with Cassandra.

"So what did I do this time?" Harry asked, getting his wand out, prepared.

Malfoy glared at him, then glanced at Cassandra and back again. Harry hesitated, and then laughed out loud, his wand hand dropping to his side. "Cassandra? Is that what this is all about?!"

Malfoy frowned, confused, and also dropped his arm to his side. He hated being made a fool of.

Harry came forward and put a hand on Malfoy's shoulder, smiling. "Malfoy, Malfoy, _Malfoy__…_ If you think there's anything going on between me and Cassandra, think again. One," Harry held up a finger with the hand that wasn't on Malfoy's shoulder, "she's a Slytherin, I'm a Griffindor. There are rules, you know? Two," he held up another finger, "Hermione has just died. I'm not that low. And three," he held up yet another finger, "if she's going out with you, she's got to have really bad taste. Why would I want her if she's got bad taste?" Harry's friends laughed behind him, and Malfoy frowned, shrugging Harry's hand off of his shoulder

Malfoy turned to Cassandra, but she'd gone. "Cassandra?" he called to a direction he thought she might have gone in. He turned back to Harry. "Nice one, Potter. I think you scared her off." He clapped in applause. "Nice one."

"Why thank you," was Harry's calm and simple reply. He bowed, then turned and began to walk off. 

"Hey, this isn't finished yet, Potter," Malfoy spat after him.

Harry turned to face Malfoy and walked away from him backwards. "After Christmas at the Quidditch match. We'll settle it then." Harry smiled. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy," he said, then turned and walked off with his friends. Malfoy was left feeling very confused, angry, and somehow, sad.

"That was bloody fantastic!" Ron said, punching the air.

"A win well deserved," Seamus agreed, slapping Harry on the back.

Harry smiled vaguely. Although it had been quite nice to see the look on Malfoy's face, Harry knew that he had hurt Cassandra's feelings. Almost everything he had said back there had been a lie. He had hoped that Cassandra would somehow realise that. Obviously she hadn't.

Harry said a quick goodbye to his friends, and went off in search of Cassandra. He looked everywhere for her, and it meant having to skip Herbology, but he didn't care. When he eventually found her, she was in the last place he'd think of looking in. He nearly didn't go there, because he thought it was a stupid idea. Luckily he looked anyway. She was in the Divination Tower.

Cassandra was sitting on the ledge of the window, gazing out into the cold breeze that the sun beamed down out. It was snowing, and as Harry watched her, Cassandra held out a hand and caught a flake, holding it in her hand, and watching it, sadly. "Don't you just love snow," said Harry, his voice interrupting Cassandra's secretive and isolated thoughts. She looked up, surprised. Harry walked over to her, and sat down on the ledge next to her. "I for one love the snow. It's just like rain – only purer." Harry didn't go on to explain why that would make snow even better, being like rain; he saw no point.

The two sat there in silence for a while, each waiting for the other to speak first. When Harry thought it was getting to the point of ridiculous, neither of them speaking, he said, without looking at Cassandra, "Look, I'm really sorry about what I said. I didn't mean any of it."

He looked then to Cassandra to see what her reaction would be. Her face was full of scorn. Harry smiled wryly. "Ok, so I did mean it. I meant all of it. But the point is, I like you even with all those things."

Cassandra smiled and looked down at her hand. The flake had melted. "I really wish you hadn't just said that, Harry," she said with a soft sigh.

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

Cassandra smiled sadly. She held her hand again out of the window, and caught another falling flake. She watched it for a while until it melted into her hand and disappeared into nothingness. "Because it makes my life so much harder," she said finally, surprising Harry because he'd thought she wasn't going to answer him. "My life is full of snowflakes," Cassandra said sincerely. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I keep getting these wonderful snowflakes drifting into my hand, and I love to look at them, and enjoy having them on my hand. I feel happy with them in my life" She sighed. "But I know that sooner or later, they're going to melt. There's nothing I can do about that. All my snowflakes melt in the end.

Harry frowned. Cassandra lifted her face up to meet his gaze. In her face Harry saw something that he'd never seen there before. He wasn't quite sure what it was. Sorrow, maybe. Or just a sad honesty. "Don't let me turn you into a snowflake, Harry," Cassandra said softly.

a/n: what is up with all of these short chapters?! Not that any of you will notice or care probably, but I notice that it's like, two (yes, TWOOOO) whole pages shorter than usual. Like the last one was. PIFFLE 

(explanation – piffle means HMPH only in Hevbek Language – don't ask). So REEEVIEWWWWWWWWWW please  :D  wow, this story is quite long. Big smiles!  :D  and again  :D  and again  :D 

sorry. Hyped up. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! big exclamation mark time !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D review pleazeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

~rowan

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	15. A Secret Uncovered

Harry walked around in a daze. He bumped into someone and fell over, not bothering to put his hands out to stop the fall. The person helped him up, and their mouth seemed to move a bit, but Harry couldn't comprehend what the person was trying to say. He walked away from them, not apologising; he couldn't even remember where he was going. Harry knew his life had been complicated before; his parents were both dead, he was a wizard, he'd defeated a very powerful dark lord as a baby, who had then come back to try and kill him for many years afterwards, and all the while without Harry knowing why.

            But this was ridiculous.

            Harry was heir to the founder of his house, Godric Griffindor, he had new powers that had only **_now__ come into power, his girlfriend had just died to save him, and there was a strange but beautiful new girl in a rival house to Harry who Harry really liked but who was afraid of Harry and didn't want to turn him into a snowflake._**

            Harry laughed out loud. A few people in the corridor stopped to stare at Harry who appeared to be laughing at the voices in his head, but they saw nothing too strange and continued walking as Harry's laughter died down. He wanted to scream away all his thoughts; he had never felt more confused in his life.

            Ron came round the corner then and a smile appeared on his face as he saw his best friend. He was about to open his mouth when Harry slung an arm around Ron's shoulder. After a hesitation, very slowly, with a strange smile on his face, Harry said, "Hello."

            "Er…hi…Harry," said Ron, frowning. "Are…you ok?"

            Harry nodded his head ferociously. "YYYYes," he slurred. "I'm gooooood. Th-" he hiccupped, "-thanks."

            "Dude, are you drunk?!" Ron asked in bewilderment. Harry nearly fell again, and Ron put an arm around him to help hold his friend up.

            "Nnnnnnno," Harry said, frowning. "De-de-definit…" Harry paused, looking thoughtful. Suddenly he burst out laughing. "You know, I think I might be, I can't remember. Isn't that strange?" He started laughing again. "It is Christmas after all. Yep, it is you know," Harry said confidently.

            Ron frowned in order to keep himself from laughing. "Yes, I know. That's why we have to get you to the hall. It's the Christmas Feast tonight, remember? Last night with everyone here."

            Harry looked confused, and didn't say anything for a while. Ron was getting worried that Harry had fallen asleep with his eyes closed or something, when he spoke: "Who?"

            Ron sighed. "Well you can't go like this. Come on."

"Idon'twannawherearewegoingI'mhungry." Harry said all this very quickly and quietly, and Ron didn't understand what he said. He didn't bother to find out, though. He was worried. Harry had sworn he would never get drunk. And so far he never had.

Ron dragged Harry all the way to the common room, said the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady and the two walked (or slid) into the common room. The only two in there were Lavender and Seamus. Everyone else had already gone down to dinner. In normal circumstances, Ron would've made a joke at Seamus and Lavender deep in conversation together, alone, away from where they should be. Ron knew his brothers would be disappointed in him, but he had more important things on his hands. (Literally. He was still half-carrying, half-dragging Harry.)

Lavender and Seamus almost jumped when the portrait hole shut behind Ron and Harry. Ron knew he **_had__ to say something. Even something small. He couldn't let this go unnoticed. "You two look guilty. What are you up to?" Ron said, smirking._**

"Don't you have more important things to worry about?" Lavender said curiously, looking at Harry worriedly.

"What happened to him?" Seamus asked, rushing over to catch the already falling Harry.

"Well I'm DEFINITELY not drunk. I'm not am I Ron? He knows. He's not drunk. Drunk people can't swim," said Harry, standing up straight, then falling onto a chair. He laughed again. "But then again, I can't swim," he muttered to himself.

Lavender raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Don't look at me," Ron said, putting his hands up. "I bumped into him in a corridor and found him like this."

"Didn't he say he was never going to drink?" Seamus queried.

"Well never this much, anyway."

Lavender sighed, and knelt down by Harry's side. "Harry? What happened?"

Harry was about to answer, when he felt something rush up from his insides, and turned away from Lavender, vomiting on the floor next to her. She jumped up in disgust, and Harry fell to the floor, knocking himself unconscious. 

            Harry's senses fluttered awake and he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was a blinding light. He sheltered his eyes with an arm and moaned. He felt as if there was a heavy metal rock concert and a formula one car race going on inside his brain all at once. It hurt.

            "Good morning sleepyhead," said a cheery and familiar voice.

            "Ron," Harry moaned. "How drunk was I?"

            Harry took his arm away and blinked at the figure standing above him. Someone handed him his glasses, and once he'd put them on, a glass of water appeared in front of his eyes. He took it gratefully and gulped the liquid down.

            He lay back, sitting up, and looked around him. He was in his dormitory (thankfully Ron hadn't taken him to the Hospital Wing, or else Dumbledore would have found out, and he'd have had his Head Boy badge taken away for sure) and the only people in there was himself and Ron.

            Ron smiled at him. "Very drunk," he answered finally. Harry moaned again and closed his eyes. A thought popped into his head. He opened them again and looked at Ron worriedly. "Who saw me like this?"

            "Well Dumbledore didn't, if that's why you're asking." Harry sighed in relief. "Lavender and Seamus. They had to help me carry you up the stairs after you'd vomited and knocked yourself out."

            Harry moaned again. He closed his eyes. "I'm never drinking again."

            "I thought you were never **_going _to get drunk in the first place," Ron pointed out. "Why did you?" he asked more seriously.**

            "I don't know." Harry shrugged. "I just felt confused. I mean, there's all this stuff about powers, and Voldemort, and being the heir to Godric Griffindor and…" Harry paused, and Ron felt that he was going to say something else, but he didn't.

            Ron knew what Harry was going to say, and it was only as his best friend looked away from him that he realised his deep torment inside. "Wow," Ron said. "You really **_do_ love her don't you?"**

            Harry didn't need to ask who. He didn't even say anything. "I loved Hermione," was all he said eventually.

            "Harry, she's dead, ok? Dead. She's gone. She's not coming back and there's nothing you or anyone can do to make her come back," Ron said harshly, making Harry stare. Then, more softly, Ron said, "I know you feel as if you're betraying Hermione, but you're not. She's gone, and you still love her, you always will, but you can't never go out with anyone ever again. You can't never love anyone new."

            "I can't fall in love with a Slytherin."               

            The depth of Ron's understanding had only been a few inches deep. Now it swam up and filled the whole of his brain. Cassandra was a Slytherin. Harry was a Griffindor. Tom Riddle (Voldemort, the Dark Lord, he-who-must-not-be-named) had been in Slytherin. Ron breathed out deeply. "Oh," was all he said, hoping Harry would know he understood.

            "It's like falling in love with the person who killed Hermione," Harry said. "It would be, well, it **_is _beyond betrayal."**

            "But it's not, though," Ron pointed out. "It's not falling in love with the person who killed Hermione, 'cause we know how bad that would be." Harry smiled wryly at the thought of falling in love with Voldemort. "It's just Cassandra."

            Harry laughed. "You say that like you know her, Ron!" Harry said, amazed at how Ron could say this so lightly. "We don't know anything about her! She never speaks of where she's from, or of her family, and she's in Slytherin. There must be a reason why she's in Slytherin."

            Ron thought about it a moment. "You were nearly put in Slytherin."

            "Yeah, but I wasn't. Because I didn't want to be put in Slytherin. Cassandra obviously wanted to be in that house. There must be a reason for that!"

            "Maybe she was too scared to argue with the hat," Ron suggested, then realised how stupid that had sounded. "Is this what's worrying you? You got drunk over a girl?" Ron laughed, trying to lighten up the mood.

            Harry looked away glumly. "Yeah, but it's not just a girl, is it? It's a Slytherin girl."

            "Remember what Hermione said when she became a vegetarian?" Ron said after a while, remembering something Hermione had said in their fifth year. " 'We all want what we cannot have. Meat is my forbidden fruit. I never wanted it before, and now I can't have it, I think I'm going to die without it!' " Harry smiled, obviously recalling the moment in his mind

            "Yeah, except my meat is going out with my sworn enemy," Harry pointed out, lightening up a bit."

            "Harry, I'm not stupid," Ron said, dragging his friend out of bed. "I've seen the way you and Cassandra are together. She does like you, even if it's not in the same way as you like her." He got some trousers from Harry drawers and flung them at his best friend. "Now go talk to her before I do!"

            Harry laughed, and Ron went out of the room, satisfied with his friend's reaction.

            As Harry wandered the corridors of Hogswarts, a thought pregnated his mind: What if Cassandra wasn't even in the castle? What if she had gone home for Christmas? Well, he knew one thing at least. Malfoy had gone; he went home every Christmas. So he was safe from him at least. All Harry wanted, needed to do, was to understand what the hell was going on. And with Malfoy there that could be a bit complicated. Malfoy was very protective over Cassandra.

            Just as Harry thought all this, a familiar figure walked around the corner, tucking a familiar strand of black hair behind her ear. Harry gulped and stopped walking. Cassandra spotted him and hesitated, searching his face, before cautiously walking over.

            Cassandra reached Harry and stopped at a few paces in front of him. "Hi," she said softly.

            "I need to talk to you," Harry said.

            Cassandra paused. "Yeah, I thought you might say that."

            There was an awkward silence, and Harry wasn't quite sure what to say next. He'd had this big plan; go find Cassandra, talk to Cassandra, feel better. That was the plan. But Harry hadn't quite figured out what to say exactly. I mean, what should he say? **_Cassandra, I think I may be in love with you, even though you're a Slytherin, even though you're my enemy's girlfriend, even if you are afraid of me and don't want to turn me into a snowflake._ Finally, he asked, "Cassandra, has Malfoy gone home for Christmas?"**

            Cassandra smiled gently. "Whenever we talk it always has to lead back to him, doesn't it." Harry thought for a moment that she wasn't going to answer his question, but she did. "No. He hasn't. I know apparently he usually does, but Draco didn't tell me why he's not going home this Christmas."

            Harry frowned in confusion. For a moment he felt slightly worried; what bad thing was happening that was making Malfoy want to stay at the school he hates for Christmas? Maybe Harry had better talk to Dumbledore. Malfoy's dad, Lucius Malfoy, was a Death Eater after all. It could have something to do with Voldemort.

            **_Don't get ahead of yourself, Harry, _**his brain told him. **_Did you think of the fact that maybe Malfoy just wants to spend Christmas with his girlfriend this year? _**With this new thought safely implanted in his brain, Harry opened his mouth to talk to Cassandra about what was annoying him. "Cassandra," he started slowly. He paused. Then it all came out in a rush; "What was all that about snowflakes the other day?"

            Cassandra frowned, looking confused. Then her mouth opened in horror. "Oh no… That conversation didn't really happen, did it? I thought it was all a dream."

            Harry frowned in confusion and placed his hand on Cassandra's arm softly. "It did feel like a dream, but if we both remember it, dream or reality, it still means something." Cassandra looked up into Harry's eyes in pain. "What does it all mean, Cassandra?" Then he said something that he hadn't even thought about before he said it. "Why are you in such pain? What is it about me that frightens you so much?"

            A small tear drop fell from Cassandra's eye and rolled gently down her cheek. She looked in pain, and avoided Harry's gentle eyes, looking down at her feet. "What frightens me, is…I think I'm falling in love with you," she whispered. Harry took in a deep breath. Then Cassandra looked up again and stepped back angrily. "But it's just so stupid and so ludicrous! It would never work! This isn't what's meant to happen!"

            Harry bit his lip. "Cassandra, if I wasn't a Griffindor, then would it be easier?" Cassandra didn't say anything. "Look, this rivalry that's gone on between Griffindor and Slytherin has lasted for centuries. It hasn't just happened because me and Malfoy hate each other's guts. It isn't personal. Well, the thing between me and Malfoy is, but between Griffindor and Slytherin, that just goes back a long way. That has nothing to do with you and me."

            Cassandra looked up as the words "you and me" were finally spoken. Finally penetrating the tensed air with words that both had desperately wanted to say and to believe. Cassandra walked firmly forward then and put her hands on his shoulders, pressing her lips strongly against Harry's. Harry's eyes widened in shock, before he closed them happily, and wrapped his arms around Cassandra, all thoughts of rivalry, all thoughts of Draco or Hermione filtering happily from his brain.

            But then it all went wrong.

Harry pulled back, swearing loudly. He clenched his eyes together tightly, hand clutching at the forehead where he had been scarred for life; the scar he had as a result from Voldemort's curse. It was burning painfully, more painfully than it ever had before. Harry just managed to whisper "Cassandra…" before falling to the floor and passing out.

            Harry woke up feeling light-headed. He didn't open his eyes, instead he felt his way through his memories trying hard to remember what had just happened. Then he heard voices above him. It sounded like Sirius. Slowly he let his eyes flitter open. Dumbledore and Sirius were standing a little away from him. They were talking in hushed voices, and both looked rather worried.

            "Harry, you're awake!" Harry looked to the other side of him to see Ron kneeling by his bed. Harry sat up slowly. "Hi, Ron," he said, getting up on his elbows. Before he was fully up he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked round to see Sirius gently pushing him back down. Harry felt too weak to resist and let the hand guide him back down to his bed. "What's going on?" Harry asked, looking in turn to each of the faces around him.

            Dumbledore came to sit on a chair next to him. "We were going t o ask you that, Harry," he said gently, as though his voice might hurt Harry if it was too loud.

            Harry frowned. "I don't know." He looked around him then to Sirius. "Why am I in the hospital wing?"

            "You don't remember?" Sirius asked worriedly.

            "No…" Harry said slowly. Then a thought occurred to him. "Where's…where's…" he couldn't remember.

            "Where's who?" said Ron.

            Harry looked at his face and narrowed his eyes in thought. "I…I can't remember. The girl. She…" Harry stopped again. He shook his head and laughed. "I don't know. Never mind."

            Ron bit his lip and moved his head to Harry's ear. "Cassandra…" he whispered. Harry widened his eyes. Yes, Cassandra. That was her name.

            "Yeah, that was it!" Harry said smiling, memory of a sweet black-haired girl coming back to him. But then other memories came back to him and hi smile began to fade. He looked away from Ron, remembering. Then he closed his eyes as the final thought came to him. "Oh God…" he whispered.

            "What is it, Harry?" Harry opened his eyes to his god-father looking down on him. "Do you remember what happened?" Harry slowly nodded his head. When he offered no more information, Dumbledore spoke; "Harry? Tell us what happened." he said, waiting for the boy to speak.

            Harry wasn't sure what to say. He didn't really know what had happened himself. The only thing he could think of to say…he said it. "Why don't you ask Cassandra Leaks."

            Dumbledore frowned. "The new girl who was put into Slytherin?" Harry nodded. At that moment Harry could hear loud footsteps coming down to the door of the hospital wing. The doors flung open and Snape strode in. He was frowning and his whole face obviously couldn't show how much anger Snape felt at that moment in time. 

            He stood there for a moment, enough time for Dumbledore to speak his name in acknowledgement. Enough time for Sirius to painfully pretend he cared about what he was doing there, before Snape strode forward and grabbed the neck of Harry's night shirt, shaking him roughly. "I warned you!" he yelled. "I warned you! You stupid idiot! I told you to stay away from her! You didn't listen to me!"

            Dumbledore pulled away the raging Snape in strong hands and tried to calm him down. "Severus, what is going on? Calm yourself down!"

            Snape breathed in heavily, never taking his infuriated eyes off Harry. "I tried to warn you. I did warn you. You stupid, stupid boy."

            Harry frowned. "Professor, what are you talking about?" he asked.

            Snape didn't say anything. He closed his eyes. "Severus?" Dumbledore pressed.

            Snape opened his eyes again. "I saw you, Potter. I saw you with Cassandra. I tried to warn you to stay away from her. You should have listened to me."

            "Why?" Harry asked slowly, frowning.

            Snape looked at Dumbledore and Sirius, even Ron, in wonder. Wondering if he dared tell them the secret that would surely get him killed. "Cassandra Leaks is a fake. Her name isn't Cassandra Leaks."

            "Are you telling me that I let a fraud into my school?" Dumbledore inquired.

            Snape nodded. "Yes."

            "Then who is she?" Sirius asked, glancing at Harry.

            Snape took in a deep breath and purposely didn't look at Harry but instead at Dumbledore. "Her name is Cassandra Riddle." Harry opened his eyes in horror and his mouth fell open. Snape turned to look at him. "She is V-Voldemort's daughter."

a/n: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wouldn't you agree this is an exclamation marky time? I would think so! Anyone who guessed this would happen, please say so. LoL. Review and I'll update. It's as simple and easy as that!

The next chapter is the start of Part Two: The Fight. Yayness. I couldn't wait for this to all happen (this is my favourite chapter) and now it has, I hope you all like it. 

~rowan

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	16. PART TWO: THE FIGHT Master

Hermione's Death

PART TWO – THE FIGHT

**Summary: **

Hermione died saving Harry's life in the face of Voldemort. He and Ron feel empty and alone, especially as Hermione was Harry's girlfriend. Everything he does reminds him of her. And Voldemort's getting stronger every day...

Hermione's dead, Cassandra is beautiful but evil, and Harry is deeply confused. Now all he has to do is let Cassandra lead him to Voldemort…

**Disclaimer:** I own only a few characters; I don't own the setting or anything like that. Most of this story (most, not all!) is down to that genius JK Rowling. Please, read on, and enjoy…oh, and review. All constructive criticisms very welcome. But please, no flames.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! Hope you're still enjoying this story. Please review; I love getting feedback. Sorry this chapter's a bit short (as are a lot my chapters!), but I'll put the next chapter up soon I promise. Ok, I'll stop rambling now and let you read it! Review please!!            ~rowanx

A man was pacing up and down a library. At least, it certainly looked like a library. There were rows and rows of shelves in this large room of endless amounts of dusty volumes. There was a clearing in the middle of all these shelves where there was a table with two chairs either side of it. The man called out for his servant a third time and when he did not come to him, the man pushed the ancient table over, shedding it to pieces. He sat down in one the wooden chairs frowning. Where was that fool of a boy he called his servant?

            He heard a door creak open slowly. It was coming from the right of him. The man did not hesitate. From a secret inside pocket of his long black cloak he got out a wooden stick and pointed at the direction he had heard the creak. He angrily muttered an incomprehensible word and moved his stick to the opposite end of the room. With the stick flung the person at the door. This person, or child, it seemed, for he was rather small, hit against the opposite wall with a thud and slithered to the ground.

            The man stood and slowly walked over to the shuddering figure by the wall. "You are late," the man said simply. "Do not let it happen again, for I am in no mood." He walked back to his chair and sat once more. The child by the wall was no child. His name was Peter Pettigrew, and a servant of this cruel, bad-tempered man. He was a man in his mid-thirties and was withered and thin. From the amount of curses and punishments he had received from his master his body had seemed to refuse to continue to grow, and so Peter was but half of his masters size who by law should have been too old to punish him with such strength. But his master was strong, he was very strong; and for this man strength brought him great power and authority.

            Peter saw his master as a tyrant; nothing better and everything worse. He wished he didn't serve him, but he had no choice. He was still young; he had many years left in the world, and he did not want to die. Peter suffered day by day. He brought pain to others so that he may live still, and he felt horrible for it. But there was nothing he could do. He was a coward, and a simple person. He was no hero. Not like that Harry Potter boy.

            Peter had a strange admiration for the boy his master desperately wanted dead. He had killed the boy's father purposely, and had the chance to kill the boy's mother by pure luck. But when he had tried to kill the boy himself, it had drained him of all power. He had even passed some of that power along to the boy himself, and when Peter was alone sometimes, he sniggered to himself thinking that his master had only made the boy stronger.

            And why was Harry Potter the thing that ruled Peter's life? The boy who haunted Peter every day and every sleepless night? Peter had once been good friends with the boy's father. Then by his own weakness and cowardice he had betrayed two of his best friends; Lily and James Potter. He had betrayed them to their deaths.

            Peter shuddered as these haunting memories came back to him as he lay crouched by the wall waiting to be called over by his master. The other two of the gang Sirius and Remus; he'd have to be careful, for they more than anyone, more than the boy himself, wanted revenge on Peter. They had sworn never to tell Voldemort where Lily and James were. Well, only Sirius knew, until that fool Dumbledore had suggested they make Peter the secret keeper instead of Sirius. Peter still didn't quite understand that. They said that it would be less obvious that Peter was the secret keeper, because Sirius was James' best friend, and best man at his and Lily's wedding. But surely they knew that Peter was a coward? He had gone around with Sirius and James and Remus because they were everything he wasn't. They were brave, they were noble, and they were strong. Peter was a weakling and a coward. He still didn't understand why they had been friends with him. Maybe it was simply because there was good in the world. They had been his friend because they had believed in him. They had believed he was as good as they were, even if he wasn't as brave or strong.

            Peter shed a tear for his old friends, and a tear for the good that had once been in him. His master turned his head round sharply from his chair to look directly at Peter. "Are you crying, snivelling servant?"

            "Yes, master," Peter admitted.

            "Why? Stop it at once!"

            "It is only from the pain you so kindly put upon me," Peter lied, knowing this would make him happy.

            His master merely grunted, showing a rare sign of approval. "Come here."

            Peter got his feet quickly and went to his master's side. He did not dare look into the face of his master. There was too much evil in his face, it hurt him to see it. These days he did not dare look upon himself even, in mirrors. He was too afraid to see the same evil, the same malice, in his own appearance.

            "What news of Cassandra?" asked the man.

            Peter bit his lip. "Um…n-none, master…"

            "None!" Peter's master rose to stand on his feet, towering above Peter like a father to his son, only with bitterness instead of tenderness. "What do you mean **_none_?! I told her to report in with you twice a week! How long has it been, servant?"**

            "Um…t…t-two w-weeks, sir…"

            The master yelled aloud in rage. Peter cowered back, shielding his face with an arm. But nothing happened. Slowly, Peter recoiled his arm to see his master standing still, staring ahead of him, frowning deep in thought. Slowly he sat back down. "Am-Am I not to be p-punished, sir?" Peter asked quietly.

            "No, I am too tired," replied his master simply. Peter lay his arm back down by his side in relief.

            The man sitting in the chair said something then in a different language. Just a few words sounding like hisses. Peter knew it well; he was speaking in parseltongue, talking aloud to himself, so Peter could not understand the nature of his plans. He looked then to Peter, with a strange glint in his eye.

            "Pettigrew…" he started slowly. Peter's eyes widened. He called him by his name. This could not be good. "I've got a job for you." His master smiled a cruel smile down on Peter, showing lots of teeth.

            "No, master, please, I beg of you…" Peter pleaded in a whisper, but his master either didn't hear him or pretended not to.

            "I want you to go to Hogwarts. Go to Hogwarts, find Cassandra, keep an eye on her. Do you understand?"

            Peter knew that now the job had been assigned to him, he could not argue. He nodded slowly. His master sat back in his chair. "Good. She is dear to me, of course. But I don't trust anyone, as well you should know."

            Peter nodded. "Yes master. Do...do you wish me to go this week?" He hoped he would have at least **_some__ time to prepare._**

            His master shook his head. Peter sighed in relief. He would have more time then to get ready for it. "I want you to go **_now_**." Peter opened his eyes wide in alarm.

            "Now? But master, I…"

            "Do you question me?!" his master raged loudly.

            "N-n-no master…"

            "Do you disobey me?!"

            "No – no of course not, master…"

            "Then go!" The man pointed his arm to the door in anger. "Go, and do not return until you have some information that I want!"

            Peter practically ran to the door. "Oh, and Peter?" Peter shuddered at his master speaking his name and slowly turned. "I do expect you to return. You cannot run from me Peter…"

            "No – no, why…why would I want to, master?" Peter said through clenched teeth.

            His master grunted. "Yes. You may be my servant, but I am still Lord Voldemort, and I will have obedience, I will have power."

            Peter bowed then scuttled out, glad to be out of the tensed room. As soon as the door had shut behind him, Voldemort smiled and a figure stepped out from behind a shelf. "Stupid fool," said the figure.

            Voldemort rose and turned. The figure stepped out into the light. He was as tall as Lord Voldemort, and had the same evil features about his face. He had white hair and an evil grin. "So you mean to go through with your plan I see?"

            Voldemort laughed aloud and clapped a hand on the figure's shoulder. The two laughed together maliciously as a certain rat was running down some stairs and out through a gap in the front door.


	17. Christmas, I Suppose

a/n:

first of all, I am a complete beeping beep of a beep head.

Secondly, I apologise to people who didn't like this chapter and felt confused, and may I kill anyone who did like this chapter and call them beeping weirdos. (hail to the beep! Lol)

Ok, no, no time for jokyness.

I must explain – this chapter I put up about Lily and James was meant to go in my other story "Secret Love" which is actually about Lily and James! This story is Harry through and through. Hate to disappoint the ones who seemed to crazily like the change.

Oh, and if you did like this chapter, go read Secret Love!!! :

Sorry again for the incredible mix up, but it was really late (for me it was, here in sunny England) and I just got confused.

So up in the next chapter (which I have now correctly uploaded) is the actual next chapter. ENJOY. And don't hate me.

Love,

Rowan Lila Arkenson

No one said anything for a while. Everyone seemed stunned into silence. Dumbledore felt particularly stupid, letting Voldemort's daughter into his castle without knowing or realising who she was. Sirius stumbled backwards in shock then almost ran out of the hospital wing to find Remus and update him on the situation. Snape was still breathing heavily from the run he had done to get there, and the strength it had taken to shake Harry so violently. He felt scared. Now he had unveiled Cassandra's true identity, what was Voldemort going to do to him? As far as Voldemort and as anyone else for that matter knew, Snape was still a Death Eater. Only he and Dumbledore knew that he wasn't and would never be again. And only they knew why. Ron had gone a deathly white and was sitting on the floor in deep thought.

            Harry couldn't believe it. He knew it did kind of make sense, though. Why else would Cassandra have pretended to like him? She was trying to get to him. Obviously Voldemort had sent her to Hogwarts to trick Harry and try to get on his side. Why else would his scar have started hurting so much that it knocked him unconscious when he had kissed her? Why else would she be the only "nice" Slytherin? Why else would she have made Malfoy her boyfriend? Now that Harry thought about it more and more, Malfoy and Cassandra seemed perfect for each other. Harry knew that Draco's dad, Lucius Malfoy, was a Death Eater, and Voldemort controlled the Death Eaters. They were his servants. His slaves of darkness.

            Harry smiled wryly in his mind (he had no strength to actually smile). The heir of Griffindor had nearly fallen in love with the heir of Slytherin. Quite funny really. But Harry thought it was funny for only a few seconds. After that the sadness crept into his mind, and brought him back to reality. He looked up at the gloomy faces that surrounded him. "Right then," he said, shocking everyone with his business-type tone. "What are we going to do about this?"

            When no one answered him he grinned bravely. "Oh come on, the daughter of Voldemort in the palms of our hands and you're telling me there's no plan?" Harry could feel Ron's worried gaze on him but he refused to turn and meet his eyes.

            Dumbledore looked to Snape, then to the floor, then back at Harry. He smiled. "You are right. There is no time to lose. Snape, let's go and find Arabella and the others."

            Harry was about to pull the covers off him when Dumbledore stuck a hand out. "No, Harry. You must rest. When we found you in the corridor your scar was burning black. You must have had a terrible headache."

            "But I'm fine now," Harry protested.

            Dumbledore looked at Ron. "Make sure he stays here tonight," Dumbledore said. Ron nodded.

            Harry sighed and folded his arms in protest. Dumbledore's eyes smiled down on him. "First thing tomorrow, I promise I will come and fill you in." Then he and Snape turned and went out of the hospital wing. As soon as they had gone, Harry turned to Ron. "You don't have to stay here with me, you know. I can look after myself."

            "I promised Dumbledore," Ron mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Harry's.

            Harry sighed again. "What is it with people wanting to look after me all the time? I'm fine! Go find whoever's still in the castle. Go to Hogsmede. Buy my Christmas present!" Harry grinned and knew Ron wouldn't be able to help but grin back, despite everything.

            Ron grinned. "Fine, I'll go. But you have to answer me this next question honestly, then I'll promise I'll go." Harry nodded in agreement. "Are you ok?" Ron asked seriously.

            Harry opened his mouth to answer but knew he wouldn't get away with lying. "Truthfully? No, I'm not. I'm not fine. But all I want to do now is sleep. I'm tired and I'm confused. So you might as well go anyway if all I'm going to be doing is sleeping."

            Ron nodded and turned away walking out of the door. Harry lay his head back down on his pillow and closed his eyes. A few minutes later he heard someone come into the hospital wing. Next to him the bed moved slightly with the added weight of a person on it. Harry smiled wryly. He would never escape Ron. Ron would always be there, no matter what Harry did. This thought comforted Harry slightly and he drifted into sleep.

"Harry? Open your eyes, Harry." Harry frowned in wonder at the voice above him. It was a female's voice, kind and light-sounding, if that even makes sense. It did to Harry though. He opened his eyes slowly. There was a figure sitting on the edge of his bed. It was dark. Harry looked around. No one was about. He picked up his watch and just made out the time in the faint glow of light that was seeping in through the windows from the moon. It was just past midnight. Harry put the watch back down and sat up, looking harder at the shadowy figure.

            "Who is that?" Harry asked. The person didn't say anything. "Cassandra, is that you?" Harry had thought he recognised the voice, and now he knew who it was. It was Cassandra. "Cassandra, what are you doing here?"

            "I'm not Cassandra," said the figure with Cassandra's voice. "It's me, Hermione." Whoever it was, she sounded pleading, as if she were desperate for Harry to believe in who it was.

            "You're not Hermione, don't mess around with me," Harry said angrily in a loud whisper.

            He could hear Cassandra begin to cry with despair. "But I am Hermione, I am! Why won't you believe me?"

            "Um, well, quite a few reasons really," Harry said. "One, you sound like Cassandra, two, Hermione's dead, and three, I'm not stupid!"

            The figure then leaned in toward the light, revealing its face. Harry recoiled in horror. They had a hooded cloak covering a lot of their face, and it was a man, definitely a man. He smiled evilly and although Harry couldn't quite remember what his enemy looked like, he knew with every terrified inch of his body that it was Voldemort. Harry clasped a hand to his burning scar. Lord Voldemort opened his mouth slightly and grinned. "You sure about that?" 

Harry yelled and he shot up in bed, eyes snapping open. To the right of him he could see Ron, half-sitting half-lying on the floor next to him. His friend's eyes also shot open and he turned to Harry in worry. "Harry? What's going on, what happened?"

            Harry looked around him. It was getting light, but he knew the castle wouldn't quite be awake yet. He got out of his bed and looked more carefully around the room. No one was there. Voldemort wasn't there. It was just a dream. Harry sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, shaking. Ron came and sat next to him. "Bad dream?" he asked knowingly.

            Harry nodded his head but didn't look up. "The worst. Cassandra was here except she kept saying she was Hermione but she sounded like Cassandra, I know it was Cassandra…"

            "And was it?"

            Harry turned and looked up at Ron. He looked down again. "No," he answered simply, shaking his head. "It wasn't Cassandra or Hermione. It was Voldemort."

            Harry climbed slowly back into bed without even looking at Ron, and fell once again asleep.

Christmas came and went without Harry even looking up to greet it. No word came from Dumbledore or Sirius and Harry didn't go to ask. He didn't really want to have anything to do with it. He needed some time to think. He never saw Cassandra or Malfoy; he didn't even spot them at the Christmas day feast, although he wasn't particularly looking around for them. Ron thanked Harry for the beautiful cloak he had bought him, and said it was perfect for taking Rowan to the ball with. Rowan was a sixth year Ravenclaw, and Ron had only just recently got to know her through his sixth year Griffindor sister, Ginny. Rowan had been so pleased to even be asked to the ball by a seventh year that she said yes straight away, much to Ron's delight.

            Harry hadn't asked anyone to the ball yet. No one had asked him either. Though he was suspicious some had wanted to. A few days before the end of term, someone had come up to him, someone he recognised of course but didn't know by name, and she had opened her mouth to speak, but then had run away. Harry just assumed people still weren't sure about the Hermione situation yet. I mean, how long are you supposed to wait after someone's girlfriend died to make a move on them?

            Truthfully, although Harry (and Rebekah of course) had arranged this ball, Harry didn't feel like going. He was confused enough about Cassandra at the moment. He wasn't sure who to ask. People were returning back to school on the 5th of January, and they decided to have the ball on the 6th. It didn't seem fair to have it during the holiday, when most people had gone home to their families.

            Harry had thought of asking Lavender, but then he had decided against it. He thought that Lavender did like him, but he was still too confused about everything. Maybe he'd ask her when she got back, assuming she didn't already have anyone to go with. Either that or Harry would go alone. There were no rules about going on your own, but Seamus and Dean had said to him that it would be a shame to go on his own, seeing as there were so many people who would be willing and desperate to go with him!

            From Ron as a Christmas present Harry got a photo album. It was full of pictures of the three of them; the three musketeers. The first few pages were pictures taken in their fifth year. Harry knew because there were some pictures of Ron and Hermione kissing (only a few, they hadn't gone out for very long). The last bunch they were in their sixth year. Lots with Hermione and Harry, looking really happy together. Harry had smiled down at it and hugged Ron, thanking him sincerely. It had now been a week since he had got it, and every single night before Harry fell asleep, he would take out the photo album labelled "The Three Musketeers" and the one of his parents that Hagrid had given him in his first year, and he would look at the photos, thinking how much, how desperately he wanted Hermione and his mum and dad back. It was a way of not thinking too much about Cassandra, and instead of getting revenge on Voldemort.

The night everyone returned from their homes was an…**_interesting_, night, certainly. Ron and Harry sat in the common room as the only two seventh year Griffindors to have stayed, waiting for their friends to return. Various other Griffindors of different ages were scattered around the common room, playing chess, finishing homework, talking in little groups, blissfully unaware that the Dark Lord, the one who they all feared but thought was gone for a while, had placed a spy, his own daughter, in the castle they had thought to be safe. A castle which was no longer safe.**

            Harry still hadn't talked to Dumbledore. He knew he'd have to sooner or later. Harry knew that Snape had somehow found out about, or had actually seen Cassandra and Harry first hand, kissing, and so had presumably told the rest of the Scooby gang, as Ron had called them several times. Harry decided he'd see Dumbledore after dinner that night.

            The first person to step into the common room was Seamus. He walked into the common room, spotted Harry and Ron by the fire, and grinned, walking over to them. "Happy new year!" he said, taking a place on the floor next to them.

            Harry simply smiled but said nothing. He didn't feel like talking at all. He was too confused, and too exhausted from all the thinking he'd had to do lately.

            With a very discreet glance in Harry's direction, Ron turned to Seamus and smiled. "Welcome back," he said.

            Seamus looked at Harry. "So, Harry mate, you alright? Didn't seem too good when we left you!"

            Harry laughed wryly but still, he said nothing. Seamus raised an eyebrow at Ron. Ron laughed in pretence; "Oh, he's fine. Got a sore throat, haven't you Harry? Very bad, hurts to talk." Seamus nodded knowingly, and at that moment Harry actually felt very grateful that he'd never be rid of Ron.

            Next to come in was Dean and Neville. Ron explained to them quickly about Harry's sore throat and then changed the subject very quickly and skilfully by making a joke about how Neville hadn't lost Trevor yet. Neville turned bright red at everyone's laughter, and held on even more tightly to his already suffocating toad, Trevor.

            Then Lavender and Parvati walked in. Harry still felt he couldn't talk, and really didn't want to, to anyone, but he really wanted to ask Lavender to the New Year's ball. Why? Well, mainly because he wanted to show Cassandra that he didn't need the Princess of Darkness, he had Lavender. And two, he had spent so little time with Lavender, and just after their friendship had met new levels after Hermione's death as well, and he felt guilty.

            Harry bent over to Ron's ear and whispered something to him. Ron grinned and nodded, jumping up and walking over to Lavender.

"It's great to be back though, isn't it?" Parvati said to Lavender.

            "Yeah," Lavender agreed. "But I think I may miss my mum and dad already!"

            Parvati laughed, and then stopped and coughed, seeing someone who was approaching them over Lavender's shoulder. Lavender frowned, confused, but then understood and turned round. She saw Ron and smiled. "Hi, Ron." 

            "Hello girls," Ron said charmingly.

            Parvati laughed. "You're such a charmer, Ron," she said sarcastically.

            "I know," Ron said, just as sarcastically. Then he turned to Lavender. "Lavender, has anyone asked you to the ball yet?"

            Lavender was just about to answer when Parvati cut in. "Um, Ron, have you forgotten a certain young brunette in Ravenclaw to whom you promised your arm tomorrow night?"

            Ron frowned in confusion, then shook his head. "No, no I haven't forgotten about her, **_actually_," he answered, smiling. "And for your information, not that it's any of your business, I wasn't asking for me."**

            "No, no one's asked me yet. Well, some people have, you know, but I said no," Lavender added quickly, heart beating quickly. "Um, so who wants to know?"

            "Harry." Ron said this like it was no big deal, and Lavender tried to calm the pounding in her heart as she took in what he had just said.

            "Harry? Really?" Lavender could feel Parvati trying to surpress a giggle next to her, and poked her sharply in the back. Parvati bit her lip to stop crying out, and shot daggers at Lavender.

            Ron waited for an answer. "Well? Will you go with Harry?"

            "Um…sure, yeah ok," Lavender said calmly.

            "Ok, great. See you two later." Ron turned round and went back to the chairs; seeing Seamus had nicked his, he pushed his friend off and sat down quickly, while Seamus sat sprawled on the floor, pouting. While everyone laughed, Ron said something to Harry, who smiled, but didn't say anything back.

            Lavender smiled.

            Parvati burst out laughing. "What?" Lavender asked crossly.

            "Oh come on, what do you mean, **_what_? You've been waiting and waiting for Harry to ask you out and now he has, you're just acting like it's no big deal!"**

            Lavender didn't grin, but stayed very calm and mature. "Parvati, he's not even asking me out, we're just going to the ball together, that's all. And besides, he's probably just asking me as a friend."

            "Ah, but probably doesn't always mean definitely, now does it?" Parvati pointed out in her annoying wisdom-like way. She scuttled off to the dormitory stairs and Lavender tutted and shook her head. But inside, her heart was all a flutter.

a/n: don't pelt me with "Harry&Lavendar?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!" bombs, because none of you know what's going to happen! READ ON. I will tell you though that I'm afraid Hermione probably won't come back. Sorry. R&R)


	18. Love Gets In The way

Harry walked into the Great Hall slowly, and stopped for a moment to take everything in. Everyone had come back now; Harry had almost forgotten how many people were at the school. How many lives and minds went into the different classrooms each day, full of eagerness to learn, and determination to learn as much as they could. Harry pictured each common room as it was every night. Friends talking about what they'd done and learned that day, what they were going to do that weekend, who they thought was going to win the next Quidditch match. A great sadness overcame Harry; if Voldemort won, if he took over everything, took over the magical world, all these things that Harry loved about Hogwarts would die. Sure, as a seventh year he had almost finished school anyway, but what about the first years? What about the first years, who had just come back from their first Christmases they'd had to go home to, to be with their families? Who hadn't taken an end of year test yet? Who probably hadn't quite got the hang of flying yet, or even doing any kind of hard spell?

            Harry looked over at the teachers table. Dumbledore was just sitting down in his grand chair in the middle, and Snape and Remus were sitting either side, already sat. Obviously Sirius must have been invited to sit with them as well, for he was sitting on the other side of Remus, and they were both discussing something which was obviously very distressing, from the distant looks on their faces. Dumbledore and Snape weren't talking, but one moment, they looked at each other, and Dumbledore shook his head in worry, and turned away. At that moment he saw Harry, standing in the doorway with hoards of people coming past him to sit down. The two looked at each other a moment, before Harry broke the saddened gaze and walked over to his table to sit by his friends.

            "So…Ron," Harry started. "Uh…so, any ideas on how to improve the team? Any…ideas for the chasers, for this Saturday? Or…anything?" Harry suddenly felt stupid at his failed try to start up a conversation.

But much to his delight, Ron smiled. It was the first time Harry had talked in almost three days. He grinned, "Nope, none at all, after all, you're the captain!" Harry laughed. "You're the one who's supposed to be coming up with the good ideas!"

            "Good point!" Harry said laughing. He refused to think any more about Voldemort or Cassandra or Hermione until after dinner, until he could no longer put it off and would have to go speak with Dumbledore.

            All of Harry's friends made a point to talk to him that evening; they all knew (or thought they knew) how painful his throat had been, how painful it must have been if Ron had said he hadn't been able to speak for a few days. Harry grinned and joined in the talk and laughter from everyone, and realised with a deepened sorrow how much he would miss them all if he…if he died.

            After dinner, Dumbledore rose up to make an announcement, which was quite strange, as he usually made any announcements before dinner. "Just a few things," he started, after he had got everyone's full attention. "Firstly, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and welcome you back. The New Year's Ball that Harry Potter and Rebekah Pigsneth so kindly set up for all years, will take place tomorrow evening. I do hope you all have fun, and wish you all a Happy New Year." The smile that had lit Dumbledore's face up during this last announcement faded quite suddenly. He brought it up again, and only Harry knew how fake it was. He could see that the twinkle that usually accompanied such a smile had disappeared from Dumbledore's sorrowful eyes.

            "And now onto the bad news," he said. A few murmurs flew around the room, but they soon died down, as everyone was curious and anxious to hear what was going on. "Two deaths have occurred during the last term of this school. I'm sure we all miss Colin Creevey and Martha Jelton terribly, may they rest in peace. It was discussed that this school should close down…" An uproar of protests sounded, everyone feeling angry that the school should have to close, but Dumbledore raised a hand and everyone stopped speaking, waiting to hear more. "But," Dumbledore said, "we have decided that this would not be the best course of actions for the students." Although nothing was said, you could feel the air was now less tensed in the Great Hall. 

Dumbledore continued. "But the fact remains that two students have been killed. We have some new rules that we would like you to follow, for your own safety. One, students are only allowed outside the castle when accompanied by a prefect or a teacher. If you are going outside to go to your lessons, please make sure you are in groups. Two, no one is allowed out of their common rooms after 9pm. Now I know this rule is already in place, but I do realise that it is not always taken seriously and has been broken a number of times." A few Griffindors laughed quietly and Ron grinned at Harry, and Harry grinned feebly back. This was no joke, however anyone took it. "The last and final rule is more of a helpful tip and warning than a rule. Please, from now on until I notify you otherwise, do not go anywhere on your own. Prefects are allowed, but I must stress the importance and seriousness of this matter. I do not want anymore blood spilled on Hogwarts grounds. Look after yourselves. Now, does everyone understand?" A few heads nodded, most understand but some scared and fragile. 

Harry looked around at his table. All the first and second years looked terrified. Dumbledore's speech hadn't exactly been soothing or comforting. But Harry did understand that he needed to get through to everyone, for their own safety. At least Dumbledore hadn't told them about Voldemort. Harry looked up at Dumbledore then, and Dumbledore caught his eye, with a look that said, "come and see me". Harry nodded in reply, and Dumbledore sat back down, signalling to everyone that they could leave. Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville got up to leave and waited for Harry to rise.

"No, that's ok," said Harry. "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

"But didn't Dumbledore say we should be in groups?" Neville said, looking around him nervously.

"Yeah, I just want to talk to Dumbledore about something. I'll be fine." Harry looked to Ron who nodded and herded the gang off. Harry stood and walked somewhat shakily to the teacher's table. Only Snape, Dumbledore, Remus and Sirius sat there now. The rest had gone. Dumbledore nodded to Harry in acknowledgment. "So," Harry said. "What's the plan?"

Harry leaned back in his chair. He was in Dumbledore's office. Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher had just explained to him everything that they had all discussed over the past two weeks. Harry felt empty inside. How could they expect him to do that? He did see how it was the only way. Simple enough. So simple that Voldemort wouldn't know or suspect. Surely they all knew how he felt about Cassandra.

            "Harry?" Arabella's warm voice floated over all of Harry's negative and confused thoughts. He looked up at her. "Do you understand?"

            "Don't treat me like a child," Harry said quickly in a quiet voice.

            Arabella smiled down on him gently. "Of course. I apologise. It is simple enough. But do you think it's a good idea? Can you do it?"

            Harry sighed and looked around at the faces imposing on him. In fact, the only face that wasn't staring hard into his eyes was Snape's. Snape was staring at the floor purposely. "Only," Harry started, "if Professor Snape thinks I can do it."

            At the mention of his name, Snape looked up sharply. Harry didn't bother to look around at any confused faces which might be looking between himself and Snape at that moment, but instead deep into Snape's eyes. "Professor?" Snape didn't answer. Harry sighed. "Look, professor, in all due respect, we haven't exactly gotten on over the years now have we?" Snape grunted in amusement. "Yeah, you're not exactly my favourite person either," Harry said bravely, not particularly bothered on what affect this would take on Snape or Dumbledore. "But if you think this is a good plan, if you think I can do this, then I will."

            Snape looked at Dumbledore, and around at the other people surrounding him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not liking all the hot attention he was getting. "Well," he said croakily, and coughed to clear his voice. He looked deep into Harry's eyes, as if summing his least favourite student up. "Yes," he said eventually. "As much as you and I know I hate to admit this…" he said smiling wryly, "you can do this. You are certainly brave enough to stand up to Voldemort when the time comes, and certainly powerful enough as we all know…" He haltered. "One thing does bother me, though."

            He turned at this point to Dumbledore, who motioned him to go on. Snape looked a bit uncomfortable, and Harry wondered if he should have asked for his opinion or not. "Harry, I'm not doubting your skills as a wizard. But if there's one thing you will fail in here, it's whether you can lie to Cassandra or not." A deep silence filled the already tensed room. Harry knew that Snape was right. He loved Cassandra – or at least, he thought he did. But she was Voldemort's daughter. Surely that would enable Harry with enough hatred to lie to her?

            "Yeah," Harry said feebly. "You're right. I certainly wouldn't have been able to before I found out she was Voldemort's daughter." He said this with a sudden anger, and almost spat out Voldemort's name. "But I think I will manage it. Just." He said this wryly, knowing that everyone knew of his dark hatred of the man who had killed his parents, killed Hermione, killed so many people.

            Dumbledore stood, ending the meeting. "Good. Then it has been decided. Harry, go on as you would have done before all this and tell me if anything new happens. Mundungus and Arabella, if you will, I ask you to continue trying to locate Lord Voldemort's hide out, and the rest of you, keep an eye on Harry and Cassandra, and help out in any ways you can. Harry, stay behind a moment, if you will."

            The others stood up and left the office silently. Harry leaned forward in his chair and waited for Dumbledore to express whatever worries or feelings he had. "Harry, I'll get straight to the point. Be careful. I know how your heart works, believe me; I've kept a close eye over you for the past seventeen years, and I know. Do not let yourself be carried away by whatever feelings you may have for Cassandra. Remember, it is all fake, all an illusion. Be careful." Harry nodded slowly. He stood up without saying a word and left Dumbledore's office.

            As Harry reached the bottom of the stairs he stepped out and the statue of the witch closed behind him. As it did, a voice sounded next to him. Harry turned, startled, to find he godfather leaning casually against a wall. Harry grinned. "You frightened me."

            "Good," replied Sirius, grinning. He stood properly and walked up to Harry. "Thought I'd walk with you to your common room." Harry moaned and Sirius laughed. "Harry, you do know that you're the one who needs protected most, right?"

            "I thought I was old enough to protect myself, thanks!" Harry said smiling. "Besides, Voldemort won't kill me till I go to him. Isn't that what it said on the mirror?"

            Sirius was silent. He looked thoughtful, and Harry decided to wait and let him gather his thoughts. "Harry, are you sure you wanna do this?"

            Harry sighed. "Yes, unfortunately." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Well, I do want to, and I don't want to. But none of that stuff really matters does it? The fact is, I'm going to do this. I kind of have to, don't I?"

            "No, of course you don't have to!" Sirius protested. "You don't have to! I never went along with this stupid plan. I told them, you're still in school, you shouldn't be used as bait, or whatever you wanna call it, for that son of a bitch." Sirius spat on the floor in anger. Harry was shocked; he didn't think he'd ever seen his godfather this angry before. Apart from maybe when they'd had Peter in the palms of their hands, and Harry had told Sirius to let Peter go, because everyone deserved a chance.

            "I wish I'd never told you to let him go," Harry said aloud, not fully explaining his thoughts.

            Sirius understood, though. He'd probably been thinking the same thing. He sighed. "Me too. But it was your decision, I guess. And in your position, I probably would have done the same thing." There was a long silence in which both were gathering their thoughts together. It was Sirius who broke the silence. "I loved your parents so goddamn much, Harry," he said. "I know how you feel – or part of it, anyway. It does seem a shame not to just get revenge when it's being handed to us on a silver plate, but I want you to think it over. Is this what Lily and James would have said?"

            Harry was about to answer when Sirius shouted aloud in anger. "For Godric's sake, of course it's what they would've wanted. They hated him as well. Who wouldn't? He was going after them and wanted to kill James and Harry; I mean, who wouldn't have hated their killer?" Sirius seemed to be talking to himself rather than Harry, who decided to let his godfather ramble, and not interrupt. "They would've said, "Harry, make us proud. Be the hero, blah blah blah." It's so stupid. I hate this." Sirius' voice had dropped to quiet, and now, head hung down to his chest, he stopped walking, frowning. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in and out. "It's been sixteen years," he said even quieter, if that was possible. "And look at me." He looked up at Harry and laughed. "I'm still getting upset over it! Shit…"

            They continued walking; Harry was silent still, as he was still taking in everything his Godfather just said. "Harry," Sirius said, starting again in normal tones. "I've always told you to be careful, always told you that James and Lily sacrificed their lives for you, so you should be careful with it. But I don't know. What do you think they would say if they could see us today?"

            Harry shook his head softly. "I don't know, Sirius. You knew them better than I did."

            Sirius smiled. "True," he said. "I hate to sound like a grandfather but those were the good old days!" Harry laughed. "Me, your father, Remus, Lily…Peter…" Sirius shrugged off the new and common feeling of anger towards his old best friend. "But no, those were good days. You have many friends, Harry?"

            Harry looked ahead of him. "Well, yeah. There's Ron, of course." Sirius shook his head in acknowledgement; he remembered Ron. "And… Oh, I don't know anymore. It used to be me, Ron and Hermione, and then everyone else out in the crowd. And now…" Harry faltered and stopped. "I don't know who my friends are anymore."

            Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. They walked on for a bit like that, in composed silence, before Sirius remembered something and spoke of it. "Hey, you've got a Quidditch game this Saturday, right?" Harry nodded. "Well I've never seen you in a game before, I'll come and watch." Harry beamed. Sirius was like a father to him; it meant a lot that he was going to be there. "Are you looking forward to it?"

            Harry nodded and grinned. "Yeah. There's something I've been wanting to settle something with a certain Malfoy." He laughed to himself, but then saw Sirius' warning stare and laughed aloud. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill him! We had a fight a few weeks ago, something about him thinking I was messing around with Cassandra-"

            "Which was partially right, was it not?" Sirius cut it.

            "Shut up," Harry said smiling. "So anyway, I haven't seen him yet. I'm guessing the game will settle things between us. Well, at least put things back to where we were before."

            Then something occurred to Harry. "Sirius, do you think I should tell Malfoy that Cassandra is Voldemort's daughter?"

            Sirius thought for a moment. "Tell Draco? I dunno. His father's a death eater, right? Well then perhaps he already knows." Harry nodded. **_Yeah, probably._******"But I'd ask Dumbledore first if you do decide to tell him."

            Harry nodded. Draco probably already knew. But what if he didn't? Should he tell him? Harry felt like a great moral compass was hanging over his head then. Assuming Draco didn't know… Harry didn't want to tell him, didn't think he deserved to know. He was as evil as his father and the rest of them, anyway. But if he didn't know, then that meant his father hadn't told him. There must have been a reason for that…

a/n: ok, kinda shoddy chapter, I apologise – not much happening here. But next chapter should be better. Next chapter is the ball, which is, as always, intriguamafying! (not sure what intriguamafying means? I'll tell you why – I MADE IT UP! You might wanna go look up the meaning for "intriguing" though, for those of you who don't know!)

gimme a review and I'll upload the next chapter more quickly!

~rowanx

(ps, please go read my hp story "truth" – crappy title, apologies – it's about how severus turned baad.)


	19. The Ball

a/n: for those Americans out there, "revision" is the English word for study. Anyone who spots the Monty Python reference in here gets ten brownie points!! Those of you who have never heard of Monty Python then go ask your parents. LoL.

Lessons didn't start the next day. It was what the teacher's liked to call "An extra revision day to get your brains back in order after Christmas". But to everyone else it was mess-around-and-do-whatever-you-want day. Harry was wandering the castle with his friends. They were all bored and so were being generally annoying and loud. Ron called them the rulers of the school, which Harry supposed was kind of true. They were among the oldest, and Harry being Head Boy gave them extra Rulerness. Also, they had broken the most rules since the days of the marauders. Malfoy and his friends were very close to Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati in the rule-breaking; close, but not ahead. 

            As they ran around on the "Extra-Revision Day", Harry's mind slowly wandered back to Hermione. Everything he did usually linked back to her. If she were still there, they'd probably be in the common room right now. Harry and Ron would probably be trying to persuade Hermione to go somewhere with them, but she'd be insisting on staying in the common room, or going to the library, insisting she needed and wanted to revise. She loved working. She loved thinking. She always loved trying to work things out, loved the thrill of feeling her brain tick.

            "So where to next boys?" asked Parvati feeling excited.

            "Let's go to the library," suggested Harry.

            A stunned silence, and then everyone broke out into laughter. "Yeah, good one, Harry. Go to the library on the day the teachers actually want us to! Funny!" said Dean cracking up.

            Harry shrugged. "It's what Hermione would have said," he said quietly. "Just thought it needed saying." No one said anything. Then Harry looked up and smiled. "I know, let's go down to the dungeons. See how much damage we can do with as little points taken off as possible!"

            Everyone laughed and they set off down the stairs, all past awkwardness forgotten. Just as they reached the entrance hall, a glimmer of white caught Harry's eye. He turned sharply and saw Draco standing by a knight, leaning against a wall. Without thinking, Harry shouted out. "Hey, Malfoy!"

            Harry started off towards Malfoy, and his friends groaned. "Oh come on, Harry," said Ron. "I'm not in the mood to fight with him today."

            "This will only take a second," Harry promised before walking over to Draco. His friends sat down on the steps, watching eagerly.

            Draco looked up and saw Harry approach him. "What do you want?" he said snidely.

            Harry wasn't sure. He just needed to know, for some reason. "Draco," he started, knowing it would startle Malfoy to hear him say his first name, "how much do you really know about Cassandra?"

            Malfoy's eyes widened. "Why the hell do you want to know, Potter? I hope you don't still fancy her."

            Harry laughed and shook his head. "No, no don't worry about that Malfoy. I wouldn't go near her after what I just found out."

            It worked. Malfoy looked both intrigued and suspicious. "What did you find out?"

            "Do you know where she lives?" Harry asked. Malfoy shook his head. "How about who her family are?"

            "Well, they're the Leaks family aren't they? And they're pure blood. What else do I need to know?"

            Harry frowned. Either Malfoy was lying to him, or he really didn't know Cassandra's secrets. From the way Malfoy was staring at him (he was never good at lying), Harry assumed it was the latter. "Oh dear," Harry breathed out. This was not good. This meant his father was lying to him. This meant that something bad was going on. And it obviously didn't just include Harry and Voldemort. "Malfoy, when was the last time you talked to you father?" It just came out; Harry hadn't even known he was going to ask it.

            "He sent me a letter just before Christmas." Malfoy paused, then laughed. "Why the hell am I telling you all this? Get lost; it's none of your business, Potter!"

            "Just one more question, then I'll go."

            "What is this an interview or something? I wasn't expecting the bloody Spanish Inquisition!"

            "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition," Harry said smiling to himself. "What did you father say to you?"

            Malfoy chewed on his gums a moment. Why the hell should he tell Potter? "Nothing much."

            "Does he know about Cassandra?"

            "I thought you said only one more question," Malfoy grumbled.

            "Tell me and I leave you alone for the next fortnight, but you can piss me off as much as you want."

            The thought intrigued Malfoy, even though he wasn't too fond of bribes. "Yeah, ok. Yes, he does know about Cassandra. He sounded happy for me, just in case you wanted to know."

            "Um…and, did he already know her or anything?"

            "No." Malfoy folded his arms. "Now is that all? If you don't mind I have a date." Harry was just about to make a snide comment when Cassandra stepped into his vision. He turned his head round and saw Cassandra. She brought her head up and her eyes met his. "Hi Harry," she said nervously.

            Harry didn't say anything, instead he walked away. He didn't care what Dumbledore had said. He couldn't just be nice to Cassandra. Not just yet anyway. He needed some more time to toss around his anger; and to shatter his love for her…

            He walked back to the stairs and smiled as best he could at his friends. "I got a better idea," he said. "Let's go outside."

            "What was all that about?" asked Lavender.

            "Yeah, and why were you so interested in him and Cassandra?"

            "You don't still fancy her do you?" Everyone laughed.

            Harry even joined in the laughter. "Oh don't worry about that. I wouldn't go near her if you paid me, the bitch." And with that everyone turned away to go outside, no one even wondering why Harry had called her a bitch. Only Ron knew why. And only Ron knew what Harry had said was a pack of lies.

Harry sat in the common room with Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville. They were all waiting for Parvati and Lavender.

            "Christ how long does it take to get ready?" Seamus said.

            Ron laughed. "Hey, you've just got here, Seamus, you can't talk!" Everyone laughed and Seamus glowed bright red.

            Eventually the girls did come down, looking stunning and beautiful, as they usually did. Parvati was wearing a purple robe and Lavender was wearing a rich red one that went perfectly with her blushing cheeks. Harry smiled. "Hi," he said getting up. Lavender smiled. "You look nice," Harry said, which made Lavender blush even more.

            Seamus grinned. He held his arm out to Parvati. "M'lady," he said bowing slightly. Parvati smiled and took the offered arm. "Why thank you," she said, then couldn't help but giggle. Dean held out an arm to Neville and they walked arm in arm, much to everyone's amusement and uncontrolled laughter. Harry wasn't going to offer the old-fashioned arm to Lavender, but since everyone else was, he thought he should. Just for fun, though. He laughed as Lavender took it, and Lavender smiled back nervously.

            When they got to the hall, Dean and Neville immediately unlinked arms and went over to the food and drink table. It wasn't compulsory to go with some one else, and so Dean and Neville had decided to skip the unnecessary embarrassment of having to ask some one and had decided to make a statement and go by themselves.

            Ron found Rowan and greeted her with "You look beautiful." Rowan laughed and kissed him on the cheek. It was Ron who blushed this time. Luckily the hall was so dark (just a few lanterns on) that she hadn't noticed.

            Harry couldn't help looking for Cassandra. He went on tip toes to look over the heads of everyone but she and Malfoy were nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Harry turned to look at Lavender. She looked quite nervous and suddenly Harry felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant this to mean anymore than two old friends having some fun; Lavender obviously felt more than that. Harry pushed the thought to the back of his mind; he'd talk to her later.

            "No, of course not," he said smiling, but offering nothing more of intimacy.

            Lavender smiled. "Right well…I'm gonna go and find Parvati and Padma, they've scuttled off somewhere!" She laughed, and in her pretty laugh Harry wondered for a moment **_why _he didn't like Lavender. "Um…I'll see you later, ok?"**

            Harry nodded and the two departed. Harry walked over to the tables and picked up a handful of crisps. It was a packed hall. Unlike the ball Hogwarts had held in Harry's fourth year, he and Rebekah had decided that everyone should get to go. Harry noticed that nearly all of the first years had just come with their friends, and Harry envied them. Why had he felt the need to ask Lavender? He should have come alone with Dean and Neville. It would have just been so much simpler. Why did he feel the need to prove to Cassandra that he didn't need her? Maybe he was trying to prove it to himself.

            "Harry?" Harry's stomach clenched together at the too-familiar voice. Remembering Dumbledore's words Harry stood and smiled at his enemy's daughter. "Hi, Cassandra." He looked around her. "Oh good, no Malfoy. Then perhaps I can talk to you without a death threat." Cassandra laughed, though somewhat uncomfortably. "So where is Malfoy?"

            "Um, he and…well…we're not…together anymore," she said quietly, looking up at Harry suggestively.

            Oh dear. This was not good. "W-Why not?"

            "We had a little argument, that's all. Well, quite a big argument, actually…"

            "What about?"

            Cassandra looked down then back up at Harry with twinkling eyes. "About you, if you really wanna know…"

            **_Let me guess, _**said Harry's all too clever mind. **_Malfoy was saying that she couldn't be friends with me so she stupidly defended my honour and broke up with him. I thought she wanted to save me for her daddy to finish off, not let Malfoy kill me first! _**Harry clenched his fists to try and release his anger. It was no good pretending to Cassandra that he liked her and knew nothing if he kept getting so angry all the time.

            "Cassandra, look; thank you for whatever you said to Malfoy, but you do realise he's going to kill me now, don't you? And I'm no good to you dead."

            Cassandra frowned in confusion. "What does that mean?"

            **_Shit. _**"Well…I mean…as a friend, you know."

            Cassandra's eyes lit up in understanding. Harry breathed out in relief. "Well, you could be more than a friend, Harry…" Harry bit his lip. "I mean, only if you wanted to of course."

            "Cassandra, you do know how weird this is, right? A few days ago you were telling me to back away and…something about snowflakes."

            Cassandra laughed feebly but Harry could see a fear in her eyes, as she avoided his glance, which he couldn't quite understand. "Oh Harry, you…you shouldn't have listened to me. I had a bad fever and I was probably just mumbling a load of nonsense!" Before Harry could respond to this, Cassandra hurried on quickly. "Well? What do you think?" She asked, touching the edge of Harry's robe.

            "What I think…" Harry started, putting his hands on hers and taking them off his robe. "Is that you are a Slytherin and I am a Griffindor. It would never work." Wait, what was he saying? Wasn't this the exact opposite of what Dumbledore had told him to do?

            "Weren't you the one who was saying that the rivalry between Griffindor and Slytherin isn't real?" Cassandra said softly. "That it's just an illusion?"

            "Illusions are real because we believe in them," Harry said. Bloody hell. This isn't what he was supposed to be saying. Other than the fact that Dumbledore had said he should go out with Cassandra, he also desperately wanted to, despite her family. So why the hell was he putting her off him? "Look, Cassandra, I can't be with you. Malfoy will kill me for one thing…"

            "You're not telling me you're afraid of him are you?" Harry stared unblinkingly into Cassandra's eyes. Suddenly he broke away and walked off, leaving Cassandra to call after him.

            Harry got to the other side of the hall successfully without any followers. He leaned against a wall and breathed out hard. Seamus, Neville and Ron came up to him. "Hey," Ron said. "You having fun?"

            "Yeah, loads," Harry said sarcastically.

            "What's wrong?" asked Neville. 

            Harry frowned then glanced at Ron. He guessed he could tell them. Everyone would know soon anyway. "Guess who just broke up with Malfoy sticking up for me?" Harry asked staring dead in front of him and away from his friends.

            No one said anything for a moment, and then as mouths were opened and silent (yet still to the ear's hearing) "Ohh…"s came out of Seamus and Neville's breaths, Harry looked back ready to be hit with the sarcasms.

            Surprisingly, he didn't get any. "Wow," Neville said. He looked to Seamus for support.

            "So…what are you going to do?" Seamus asked.

            Harry frowned. "How can you even ask me that?" he said angrily. "She's a Slytherin for Godric's sake. I can't…**_go out _**with her."

            A pause. "…Why not?" asked Seamus.

            "He has his reasons," Ron said stupidly. Harry gave him a warning stare.

            "And…what are those reasons exactly?"

            "Just that…" Ron started quickly trying to think of something. "Well, for one thing, she's Malfoy's old rubbish! Malfoy will kill him if he has Cassandra."

            "Exactly," said Harry leaning back again on the wall. "What am I going to do?" he breathed out.

            Just at that moment Dean came up panting. "Dancing on your own is a lot more tiring than with a partner," he said in breaths. Then seeing the worried expressions on his friends faces added, "What's going on?"

            "Cassandra Leaks, Slytherin, just dumped Malfoy for Harry," Seamus said grinning.

            Harry had known the teasings had to come sooner or later. It was too good to be true. "Ooh!" said Dean grinning. "You got yourself a girlfriend have you, Harry?"

            "No," Harry said stubbornly. "I turned her down."

            "Why? You fancy her don't you?"

            Harry opened his mouth to answer, but just turned away huffily. What was the point in lying? His friends knew him too well anyway. "So…what's the problem?" Dean asked again.

            As Seamus, Neville and Ron filled Dean in on the problem at hand, Harry suddenly spotted Malfoy in the doorway. He was looking around for someone. "Oh no," Harry said standing up.

            "What?" asked Ron.

            "We got a problem."

            "What is it?"

            "Malfoy's here."

            The five friends looked over to the door when suddenly Malfoy spotted Harry and began walking over to them. "No eye contact," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. Harry understood. If it came to a fight (which he sincerely hoped it would to be honest) then Harry had to control his eye-and-mind-magic and just use the old-fashioned wand.

            "Malfoy, good for you to join us," Harry said sarcastically.

            "I knew you were playing around with her, Potter! I knew it," Draco steamed. "Why else would you have asked me all those questions the other day, huh?"

            "Look Malfoy, I have nothing to do with the fact that you and Cassandra broke up, alright? I'm actually kinda sorry; you two nutheads were perfect for each other."

            And so the first fist was thrown. Harry wasn't ready for it, Draco had shown no signs yet of physical contact, but sure enough, the fist lay flat in his face. Harry staggered but recovered quickly. "Wow, second time in just a few weeks," he said, touching his face and feeling blood from his nose. Quite a few people had started to gather, but no teachers had quite arrived yet. **_Good, _**said Harry's instinctive fighting mind.

            "Well…" Harry started without a pause, pretending he was going to say something, then he punched Malfoy back. It was a really hard punch and Malfoy fell backwards. A few Slytherins hurried over to help him up, and Malfoy was fuming by the time he reached Harry's height again. "Didn't think I could punch you did you? I've been beaten up enough times by my cousin to know how to."

            Malfoy quickly whipped his wand out and Harry did the same. "Uh, mate, maybe it's time to back away now," whispered Harry's conscience into his ear. It was Ron of course.

            "Better get out of the way Ron," Harry said quietly without turning round. With nothing he could do, Ron regrettably stepped back and over to the wall, hand closed tightly around his wand in his pocket, just in case.

            But before any such wand waving could be done Cassandra ran over and stood in front of Draco blocking the spell path that lead straight to Harry's death. "Draco don't," she cried. "You'll ruin everything!"

            "Everything what?" Draco asked angrily. "Everything you could have had with **_him_?!" People in the crowd opened their eyes wide in wonder. Cassandra and Harry? Surely not. It was unheard of. A Slytherin and a Griffindor?**

            Cassandra started to cry. "Draco, don't," she said in more anguish.

            Harry had had enough. "Cassandra move," he said. "Don't be stupid."

            "No," she said rebelliously, turning round to face him. "I won't let him kill you."

            "Oh yes you bloody well will!" Harry said frowning. He looked down at his wand and stared at it. Suddenly he dropped it to the floor. "Oh bugger this," he muttered then ran forward, dodging Cassandra and pushing Malfoy to the ground.

a/n: HELLO. My personal favourite chapter to write methinks. Hope you liked it :S if you didn't I think I'll die!!!!! IT'S YOUR LOVE THAT KEEPS ME GOING! Oh yeah, and your reviews, hint hint. Oh, did anyone actually get the monty python reference in there, or am I a lone fan? At least GUESS at what you think it was – if you get it right I'll give you a pressie :D REVIEW. ~rowanx


	20. Not So Different

a/n: think about the title of the chapter while you read this. Review please. ~rowanx

Harry and Draco were each sitting on a different bed, muttering and glaring at each other every now and then, only to find the other glaring back, and so turning away muttering once more. Harry was dabbing a patch of cotton wool on his bleeding nose and cheek while Draco holding a larger piece to his forehead and black eye. They were waiting for the nurse, Madam Pomfrey, to return to "fix you boys up properly, God knows how you got into this mess in the first place…tut tut blah blah."

            Harry didn't care. Well, thinking about it he did. He knew he had messed up. He knew Dumbledore would be angry. He knew he'd probably get his Head Boy badge taken away for sure this time, but none of that stuff really seemed to matter. Apart from the first one. He had messed up. He had said no to Cassandra and he had lost it with Malfoy. Two big no nos. 

            Madam Pomfrey came back with some chocolate for both of them (although: "you don't really deserve it, it's your own faults") and some facial healing potion which they both drunk down in one disgusting gulp and their faces went back to looking normal (although there was still some pain there – Harry and Draco both assumed that Madam Pomfrey had done that deliberately to teach them both a lesson).

            "Now, before you go," Pomfrey said, looking severe, "I don't want you two getting into any more fights, do you hear me? I know better than anyone how much you've nearly killed each other the past couple of years, but I'm being serious. You're both in your seventh year. You're adults now. Grow up, and learn to get along."

            Harry and Draco left the hospital wing groaning. Madam Pomfrey was wrong; it wasn't silly childish behaviour. It was real. Harry really did hate Malfoy to the depths of his soul and he couldn't stand being in the same room as him.

            Although Harry was feeling these hate-filled thoughts, he did have a moment of enlightenment and decided he should do the right thing for his most hated enemy. "Hey Malfoy," Harry called out just as they were about to split directions.

            "What now?" Draco asked sounding bored and angry.

            "You do know Madam Pomfrey was wrong don't you? About us being silly and childish?"

            "'Course I do. I hate you because you're so bloody annoying and I hate you. It's not stupid rivalry."

            Harry grinned and frowned. "Good. So you'll know that what I'm about to say is through pure honesty and a strange and sudden feeling of righteousness; it's got nothing to do with you."

            Malfoy nodded slowly, frowning. Harry took a deep breath. "I know you and Cassandra aren't together anymore, but I know you still care for her, so if I were you, I'd try to find out who the hell she really is before you start begging that she takes you back."

            Harry then turned and walked off, ignoring the calls of "What's that supposed to mean, Potter? Potter!" from his confused enemy now far behind him.

Harry approached the painting of the fat lady carefully. He knew everyone would be in the common room, back from the ball. He also knew that they'd all know about, or probably saw, the fight. "Slytherin suck," Harry said to the fat lady (he and Seamus had come up with the very original password for their common room). The fat lady smiled at him pleasantly, and swung open to let him through. Harry walked in to the over-crowded common room. Was it his imagination or had his house grown suddenly?

            As he had thought, a million people rushed at Harry at once; some asking why he had fought Malfoy, some congratulating him on his last swing, some marvelling at how quickly the cuts on his face had healed (or had seemed to heal).

            Harry just pushed through everyone, not looking at anyone, not talking to anyone. He ran straight up the stairs and slammed into his dormitory door, causing it to fling open in rage. Harry walked over to his bed, turned, and fell on it. He closed his eyes. He imagined he was at the top of a waterfall. He was just standing there, letting the rushing water race past his feet, but he wasn't falling over. His arms were spread out like an eagle, and the sun was shining down on him. He bent his knees, and jumped…

            "Harry?" Harry's eyes shot open, bringing him back to reality. Five of Harry's best friends came in, one who wasn't even supposed to be in there.

            "How are you?" asked Parvati, sitting down on a bed next to Harry's.

            Harry frowned, sitting up. "You're not allowed here."

            "So?" Parvati grinned. "Since when are you all for the rules?"

            Harry laughed wryly. "Point taken."

            Seamus, Dean, Neville and Ron each placed themselves on different beds around the room, ignoring whose was whose. "What set you two off anyway?" asked Parvati. Harry raised an eyebrow at the boys. He had assumed they would tell her. "I missed the first part of the fight, me and Lavender were outside."

            Lavender. Harry winced at her name and rubbed his face wearily. "Lavender…" he groaned.

            "Yeah," Parvati said understandingly.

            "Where is she?"

            "In her bedroom."

            "Is she ok?"

            "Well, you did kinda ignore her all night. She was really looking forward to going with you, you know…"

            Harry leaned forward. "Yeah, I know. Listen, Parvati…tonight was just supposed to be us going as friends…"

            "Yeah…I know," Parvati said softly, smiling sympathetically. "So tell me – what was the fight about? I assume Cassandra since she was kind of standing in between you guys when I got there."

            "Yeah…" Harry looked away uncomfortably. He didn't wanna explain the whole thing again. He assumed his friends would. Sure enough, they did.

            "Cassandra dumped Malfoy to go out with Harry and Harry **_obviously _said no, and Cassandra was upset and Malfoy was pissed and was on a death watch," Seamus explained quickly. "Very complicated."**

            "Extremely," Parvati agreed with one eyebrow raised.

            While the others were discussing this factor, Ron got up unnoticeably and went over to sit by Harry. "So are you going to talk to her?"

            "Who, Lavender?"

            "No, Cassandra!" Ron frowned. "Harry, you were supposed to go out with her, remember?" He knocked on Harry's head. "Or have you completely forgotten what Dumbledore said the other day?"

            "Of course I remember," said Harry, with a quick glance to check the others weren't listening. "It's not as easy as that…"

            "And why not?"

            Harry bit on his lip. How to explain… "If I just say yes to her while I still…I still love her…then it'll be like I'm really going out with her. And I don't think I could just use her like that while I still love her…" 

            "Oh…" Ron understood.

"Hey, what are you two talking about?" asked Seamus, whipping around suddenly from his conversation with Parvati.

"Nothing," Ron said, shrugging it off. 

Draco stood feeling confused. He had been standing there for quite some time now, and suddenly realised that he was standing in the middle of a corridor after Potter had left him there. Draco frowned angrily, turned, and walked into the dungeons. What the hell was Potter on about anyway? What did he know about Cassandra that Draco didn't?

            Draco reached the entrance to his common room, muttered the password ("Griffindors suck", courtesy of himself and Crabbe and Goyle), and entered his full common room. As expected, loads of people rushed at him at once, congratulating him for "kicking Potter's ass!" Draco was going to point out that he didn't actually beat Potter; seeing as how the fight ended with people pulling them apart, no one won, but then something inside of Draco said, **_Shut up; Malfoys don't care about what's good and right. Enjoy the glory, doofus. _So he did. Draco grinned and began to push himself through the crowd. He looked everywhere for Cassandra but couldn't see her. He asked Crabbe and Goyle but they said they hadn't seen her. Then he asked Pansy.**

            "Yeah, she's up in her dormitory," Pansy said, answering Draco's query.

            "Right. Anyone else up there?"

            "No. Want me to keep everyone down here for you?"

            "Yeah." Draco moved away from Pansy and practically ran to the stairs leading to the girls dormitories, slowing down as soon as he was on the stairs. What was he going to say? He couldn't exactly say, "Cassie, darlin', Potter said you have a secret. Tell me what it is please," could he?

            Draco gulped, feeling nervous for the first time in a long time, and rapped his fist on the door. It opened and Cassandra's pale, beautiful face appeared around the side of it. She looked surprised to see Draco, yet she stepped aside and walked back over to her bed where apparently she had been writing something in a notebook. She closed the book and pushed it under her bed. Draco made a mental note of which bed it was in the room. He'd have to remember that.

            "So," said Cassandra, sitting on her bed slowly. "Let's get this over with."

            Draco frowned. He hated being predictable. He walked over and pushed his hands in his pockets. It was weird; he still didn't know what to say, and yet the right words somehow managed to work their way out of his mouth. "Cassie, what aren't you telling me?"

            Cassandra looked straight into his eyes, her own a light shade of grey in the dim light. "Lots. What aren't you telling me?"

            Draco laughed wryly. "Funny." He looked away, rolling his eyes, and sitting down on a bed. "There's nothing about me you don't know," Draco answered honestly, bringing up his eyes level with hers. "Your turn."

            Cassandra sighed. "Draco, you of all people know that a secret is a secret. I can't tell you as much as you wouldn't be able to tell me about what Lucius gets up to."

            Draco frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

            Cassandra shook her head and looked away. "Oh, nothing."

            "So far I've told you practically nothing about my father – I didn't even tell you his name… Why would you assume he "gets up to" things?" Cassandra didn't answer. "Cassie, don't lie to me. What's going on? How do you know my father…"

            "I don't, ok. Don't be so paranoid, Draco." Cassandra stood up to walk over to the door but Draco got there first, holding her firmly by the shoulders.

            "Of course you know him. How else do you know his name?"

            Cassandra hesitated, then said, "Other people do know what your dad's name is, ok? And people do talk, you know…"

            "What do they say about him?"

            "I don't know, I've just heard the name being mentioned…"

            "Then how would you know it was my father they were talking about?"

            Cassandra didn't say anything. "You never did tell me why you changed your mind about staying here over Christmas," Malfoy pondered. "You ever going to?"

            "I just wanted to spend it with you, ok?" Cassandra's eyelids were wavering, and Draco could see that here eyes weren't quite meeting with his. She was lying.

            "You bitch," Draco muttered. He let go of her.

            "Oh, what now, Draco?" Cassandra asked sounding bored.

            "You never really liked me. You never wanted to spend Christmas with me. You were just using me weren't you. Why? Why – was it to make Potter jealous, was that it?"

            "Something like that," Cassandra said with a slight smile, sounding amused.

            Ok, now Draco felt really confused. "Cassie, just explain to me; how is it that you're in Slytherin and yet you seem to be in love with the head boy of Griffindor?"

            Cassandra smiled and cocked her head to one side adorably. Draco tried to stop his heart from pounding at this sweet and innocence that always did it for him. "Things happen. We can't explain them. I don't know as much as you don't."

            And with that she left.


	21. Hermione

Someone was poking Harry softly in his shoulder. There was a voice, so close to his ear. It whispered: "Wake up, Harry." Harry didn't want to wake up. It was too early to get up. He rolled over, frowning, and mumbled, "Go away."

                There was a quiet laughter and Harry frowned again, thinking he could recognise that voice. Who was it? "Lavender?" he whispered unsurely, not wanting to open his eyes. Another sound of laughter, a bit louder this time. Harry opened his eyes slowly. No one was there. He sat up slowly and balanced himself onto his elbows. Everyone else was up; all the other beds were empty. He looked over to the window. He could see through the curtains that it was getting light. He was going to be late for lessons if he didn't get up soon. Harry sighed and lay back down again. He was going crazy; no one was in his room. And yet that voice…it had sounded so real, so familiar…

                "No Harry, you're not going crazy." Harry sat up again on his elbows and turned his head to the left of him. His mouth opened slowly in shock. What the… Hermione smiled at him kindly. "And no, you're not dreaming either. Trust me, this is real."

                Harry frowned. "Hermione?" he whispered. She smiled softly, and everything Harry had once loved about his girlfriend came flooding back to him. Hermione's curly brown hair, her kind smile, her glistening eyes… the only change Harry noticed was how pale her cheeks were. He touched them with his hand and flinched back. They were ice cold. "But…you're…" he faltered, trying to find a different word for it. He couldn't really think of anything soothing enough. "You're dead," he said feebly.

                Hermione laughed wryly. "Really? I didn't know that." 

Harry couldn't get over how beautiful she looked when she smiled, and he couldn't believe he had forgotten that either. "Wh…what's going on? This can't be real…it's a dream…" He paused. "Are you a ghost?"

"No, not quite." Hermione frowned, wondering how she was going to explain. "Ghosts are dead people come back, to stay in the real world forever as a spirit. I'm not staying."

"Why not?" Harry sat up properly and swung his legs around to the edge of the bed. He reached for his glasses and put them on, Hermione coming all the more clear. "Why aren't you staying? And if you're not a ghost…this can't be happening…"

Hermione stood and sat next to Harry on the bed, reaching for his hand and clasping it into her own. She frowned, looking away from him. "I'm not really sure what I am." She looked up at him and smiled again. "I'm just Hermione."

Harry leaned forward and hugged her hard. "I missed you," he whispered softly into her neck.

"I missed you too."

Harry pulled away and held her hands. "So, if you're not staying, then there must be a reason why you're here."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes…there is." She paused. "Harry, I know about…things." Harry frowned. 

"What things?" Harry began to get worried. "Hermione, you know I only ever think about you…"

"Harry, stop," Hermione said firmly. "That's exactly why I'm here." She hesitated, thinking over what to say. "Harry, I'm dead. I know I may look real enough, but the fact is, I am dead. And I'm not going to come back again." Harry looked away, knowing it was true but not wanting to believe it. He didn't want to have to say goodbye again. "I know about your plans with Dumbledore and the rest of them to go after Voldemort."

Harry looked back at her worriedly. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. What to say? He knew Hermione had always warned him against going after Voldemort. Hermione smiled, as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "Harry, I'm not going to tell you not to do this. I want revenge on the bastard as much as you do. He's what drove us apart."

"Hermione…" Harry began to say what he had wanted to say to her since she had gone, but didn't think he'd ever be able to say to her. "I should've died. Not you. Voldemort's curse was meant for me…not you…"

"Harry, don't do this," Hermione said, bringing her face closer to his. She leaned her forehead on Harry's. "If Voldemort had sent a death curse my way, you would've jumped in front of me, wouldn't you." Harry nodded slowly. "I loved you too much…I **_love _**you too much, to have let you die. And anyway, you needed to live, to kill him. To stop all the hurt he's brought on everyone. On you. On us."

Harry closed his eyes and moved his mouth in to Hermione's. Before his lips had reached hers, she pushed forward and kissed him. "Hermione," Harry said, pulling away breathlessly. "Don't leave me again. Please, don't go…"

"I have to," she whispered. "I have to…"

"What's death like?" Harry asked, hugging her tightly, eyes closed.

"It's…peaceful," she answered simply. "Harry, you have to kill Voldemort. You have to do whatever you can to destroy him. It's the only way." Another pause. "But that's not going to be easy when you think you fancy his daughter." Harry's eyes widened in horror. He was glad that Hermione couldn't see his face, and instead of replying, he just hugged her more tightly.

"Harry, don't worry. I know you're going to fall in love with more people, for the rest of your life, there's going to be other people. And I don't mind, because I know in your heart you won't forget the good times we shared together. But Harry, I want you to think about this before you answer me, ok?" Hermione pulled away gently and looked deeply into Harry's eyes. Harry frowned and nodded. Hermione smiled. "Harry, you think that Cassandra's going to be easy to get over, don't you? Because she's Voldemort's daughter. If you had known from the beginning that Cassandra was Voldemort's daughter, that she was lying to you, do you think you would have fallen in love with her?"

Harry was thinking. He hesitated before saying: "No… No, I don't think I would have

"Harry, let me tell you something. You would have."

Harry frowned. "How do you know?"

Hermione laughed. "Because I know you! And surprisingly, I know Cassandra. I've been watching her, and you. I've seen her torment at being the daughter of a dark lord, seen her regret at meeting you, and agreeing with her father that she would lure you in for the kill. And I've seen you, ignoring all that."

Harry sighed. "It's hard. She's my friend, but…"

"But your plan is to kill her daddy. Does put a strain on the relationship, doesn't it?" Harry looked up into Hermione's eyes.

"What am I going to do?" he asked. "Help me, Hermione."

"I can't. I'm sorry. This is for you only. It's you who has to decide. Do you stay with the one you love, or do you kill her father? In other words, it's your pain, or the pain of the world."

Harry paused then started to laugh. "What's so funny?" Hermione asked, smiling.

"Oh, just something Ron said. He said I always had to be like a superhero…"

"Well you don't have to be you know."

Harry smiled. "That's what he said." Hermione grinned, remembering her old friend and imagining him lecturing Harry on being careful and looking after himself. "He said that I should do what I wanted for once. That I didn't always have to save the world."

Hermione shrugged grinning. "And he's right. But it's your decision, Harry." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "How is Ron by the way?"

"Oh he's fine, yeah. Really misses you though. He doesn't always show it, but you can tell."

Hermione smiled and looked down. Harry's smile faded. "You're going now aren't you."

"I have to."

"At least this time I get to say goodbye. And Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Thank you for saving my life."

Hermione laughed. "Any time!" she joked.

"Hermione, you're the best friend I ever had," Harry said quietly. "I love you. More than anyone else. More than anything else. I love you…"

"I love you too," Hermione whispered, tears running down her face.

Harry leaned in and kissed her again, softly, holding her hands. When he drew back and opened his eyes, she had gone. He looked down at his hands. They were holding air. He clenched them then opened them again, and looked back at where Hermione had been. Now that she was gone, Harry let the tears that had been waiting patiently in his eyes silently drop down. "Hermione," he whispered, lying down in the space where she had been sitting. 

Harry sat down at the table not looking at anyone. He picked up his goblet and drank from it slowly. Then he put it back down on the table and got a bowl of cornflakes. He poured some milk over it and began spooning it into his mouth slowly. His friends had been watching throughout these slow movements and it was Ron who finally said, "Hello."

                Harry looked up briefly. Ron tried not to say anything when he saw Harry's face. His friend's eyes were slightly redder than usual and he had bags under his eyes. He looked at his hand that held the spoon and it was shaking. "Hi," said Harry, before looking down at his cornflakes. He seemed intent on finishing his cornflakes and was doing so with a slow but determined lift of the hand. Ron glanced briefly around and saw that everyone else had noticed what a terrible state Harry was or seemed to be in.

                Ron knew better than to ask Harry about it so instead he tried to get a conversation going with their friends. Everyone got the hint and began talking to each other again. "So the Quidditch game this Saturday," said Ron feebly.

                "Yeah, it's gonna be good, right Harry?" asked Seamus. Harry continued to gaze at his food and Seamus raised an eyebrow. Harry didn't answer. He was so tired and felt so depressed, he didn't think he had the energy to even smile. There were several loud hoots and hundreds of owls swooped into the hall with the morning post. The Daily Prophet was dropped into Harry's bowl and he had to blink several times to realise what it was. Slowly, he picked it up and shook it out. He scanned the first page and his heart fell. "You-Know-Who Who-Knows-Where" read the headline. Harry leaned forward and rested his elbows onto the table. With both hands holding the paper still slightly shaky, he began to read:

**Every Witch and Wizard remembers what it was like when Voldemort was trying to take over. It appears he is trying to do the same. After the not-so-secret encounter he had with Harry Potter last year, the not-so-secret news of his new rise to power has leaked out. When confronted, Headmaster of ****Hogwarts****School**** of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, admits, "It is true. Voldemort has been getting stronger and stronger over the past two years and is now stronger than ever before."**

Harry frowned in anger. Why would Dumbledore say something like that? And in the Daily Prophet as well – all that had done was cause more panic probably.

**We ask that everyone be extra cautious with locking their windows and doors with powerful locking charms, see page 12 for details, and to keep family with them at all times.**

Harry threw the paper down on the table angrily, making a few people jump. _That's so stupid, _he thought, _and they know it. Voldemort can get past any pitiful locking charm, that's not going to stop him from killing anyone. The only thing that's going to stop him killing anyone… _Harry faltered. _The only thing that can stop him…_

_The only one who can stop him … is me._

"Harry, are you ok?" Harry looked up into Ron's worried gaze and then looked around to see everyone else staring at him intensely. Harry wiped his hand across his eyes, to stop any oncoming tears. "I gotta go," he said, standing up quickly and rushing from the hall.

Ron stood up and called after him. With one look at Seamus, Dean and Neville, the four rushed out of the hall after their emotionally dangerous friend. Keeping an ear out for his footsteps, they followed Harry to the Boys Bathroom. They walked inside and slowly peered round into an open cubicle just in time to see Harry throw up.

Shakily, Harry stood up. Having realised that he'd now been kneeling at the toilet for at least a good five minutes, he knew he was late for lessons. Turning around he saw Ron staring at him, while the other three seventh year Gryffindor boys exchanged looks. With a pale face and a not-so-even smile, Harry said in a small voice, "Come on, let's go." Ron placed a gentle but firm hand on Harry's shoulder.

                "Where are you going?" asked Ron.

                "Defence Against The Dark Arts," Harry said. "We have lessons, remember?"

                Seamus came round. "Harry, do you really think we're going to let you go anywhere in this state?"

                "What state?" asked Harry frowning.

                Dean sighed. "Harry, you look terrible, you look like you've just been crying and you just threw up." 

                Harry frowned. "I'm fine, ok? I just don't think my breakfast quite agreed with me." He smiled lightly, trying to make a joke, but no one else thought it was funny.

                "Harry, maybe you should go to the hospital wing for a bit…" started Ron.

                "And have Madam Pomfrey do what?" Harry exploded angrily. "There's nothing wrong me with that Pomfrey can fix, ok! Just leave me alone." Harry barged past the others and walked firmly out of the bathroom.

In Defence Against the Dark Arts Harry had chosen a seat in a back corner of the classroom. When Ron and the others walked in, they moved to go sit next to him, but saw the death-threat in his still teary eyes that refused to look at them, and instead sent Ron to go see if he was ok while the rest sat near the front. Ron sat down next to Harry silently. He didn't need to ask.

                Lupin walked into the classroom with a cheery look on his face. Everyone was still talking, and Lupin looked to the back of the class catching Ron's stare. Ron nodded almost unnoticeably towards Harry and Lupin's wide smile vanished completely as he looked at Harry. Lupin coughed and looked down at his desk. After a few moments he looked back up again and smiled a little less broadly at the class. Everyone shut up and waited in silence for Lupin to speak. "Well then," he said. A pause. "Um, today, today I thought we could…um…ok, to tell you the truth guys, I haven't exactly planned anything for today's lesson," he said, throwing his pile of papers he'd been carrying onto the floor. Everyone laughed. "It's been such a hectic week for me I thought today we could just do whatever you want to do. So, any suggestions?"

                No one put their hands into the air at first. Everyone looked at each other as if expecting someone else to come up with a bright idea. At last someone slowly put their hand up. It was Seamus. Lupin nodded towards the hand. "Yes, Mr Finnigan?"

                "Professor, I was…I was wondering if you could…tell us a little about…about…You-Know-Who." The class went completely silent and Ron noticed how tensed Harry's shoulders had become. Lupin's smile vanished and he went a little pale. "Well," he said, but it came out in a croak so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Well, I would love to Mr Finnigan, but I think that's more Professor Binns territory…" Professor Binns was the History of Magic professor and was definitely the most boring man alive (well, dead – he was a ghost).

                "I know Professor," said Seamus, becoming more confident. "But there's been all this stuff in the news about him coming stronger and I'm sure we'd all feel much better if we knew more about it." 

Lupin said nothing. He looked out of the window and sat there in complete silence for what must have been at least three minutes before he said, "Ok then. If you want a lesson on the most murderous and disgusting man ever to live, then that's what you'll get!" He smiled lightly and stood up, walking around to the front of his desk. He sat down onto it and clapped his hands together. "I wouldn't really call myself a History Professor but I do know the facts. Ok, so is there anything in particular you want to know about him?"

Harry sat there in silence, staring at the wall, while people asked general questions about the usually-forbidden topic. No one knew much, if anything, about Voldemort, as no one liked to talk about him. Harry urged the temptation to throw lightning bolts around with his hands. He clenched his fists together and tried hard to release his anger. He needed to save it up for when he met with Voldemort. If that ever happened. Harry looked over to see where Cassandra was. She was sitting at the back furthest away from Harry. She had a smile on her face, and didn't seem to have any problems with the lines of questioning at all; this really pissed Harry off.

Lupin smiled. "Any more questions?" Harry's hand shot up in the air and Lupin's face paled more. "Yes, Mr Potter?" he asked. Everyone in the class swivelled round to see what Harry's question would be. Ron gave Lupin a worried look but Lupin simply shook his head and looked at Harry.

"Did Voldemort ever have any children?" asked Harry pointedly, not bothering to call him You-Know-Who which he usually did in front of people. Everyone flinched when he said the name.

Lupin sighed and didn't take his eyes off of Harry. After a few moments he said, "No. No he didn't."

"Didn't think so," Harry said. "Any children he had would be horrid, monsterous people, wouldn't they? It would be too obvious to tell who they are. People who don't have a soul do tend to stand out like that, don't they."

Lupin gave Harry and angry glare, but Harry didn't care. "Yes, Harry. I suppose they would. But no, he didn't have any children." Lupin looked around the class. "Anyone else like to ask something?" Harry returned to staring at his wall.

"Harry that was stupid," Lupin said in a fierce whisper. The lesson had ended and Remus had kept Harry behind. "I know you're feeling angry, we all are, but don't you think that by doing that she'll guess what you're doing? She's Voldemort's daughter, she's not stupid!"

                Harry frowned. "I don't care," he said.

                "Yeah, well you can not care all you like, but in case you've forgotten, we still need to kill the bastard, and it's not going to be very easy to do if he finds out that we know about his little daughter."

                Harry placed his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back onto it. "Fine," he said after a while. "I'm sorry, it was stupid. I just couldn't stand the way Cassandra could just sit there as if nothing affected her. As if she had no soul… Which she probably doesn't," Harry added. Then his mind quickly flashed back to Hermione's words in the dream he had had last night. _"I know Cassandra. I've been watching her, and you. I've seen her torment at being the daughter of a dark lord, seen her regret at meeting you, and agreeing with her father that she would lure you in for the kill." Harry had been wondering all day whether the dream had been real or not, whether it meant anything. Maybe Cassandra did have a soul. Maybe she really did like Harry… No. Harry blocked out that thought. No. She was Voldemort's daughter. She couldn't possibly have any soul or any feelings at all to have come from someone so monsterous. Then Harry had a thought._

                "Remus…" he started slowly, "Do we know who Cassandra's mother is?"

                Lupin looked surprised at the question. "No," he said eventually, after much thought. "You know, it's never crossed my mind. I expect one of Voldemort's followers." Harry nodded. The thought wouldn't leave his mind that quickly, though. He wondered whether Cassandra's mother was evil or not. "Come on," said Lupin. "You're already late for your next lesson, and I have a free period to catch up on some sleep in." Lupin and Harry walked out of the classroom and from inside an other-wise empty cupboard, out stepped a pale-faced Draco Malfoy.

"Hello," said Harry as he sat down next to Seamus.

Seamus raised an eyebrow. "You sure are happy today," he commented.

Harry shrugged. "If you say so," he said, smiling widely. "So, anyone got the paper today?"

Ron widened his eyes and slowly passed it over the table. "Thanks," said Harry, taking the paper and opening it up. He read the first few headlines then put it down on the table and took some toast, fully aware that all of his friends were staring at him, and enjoying it immensely.

"Harry? Are you sure you're feeling ok?" asked Dean.

"Yeah…you haven't been this happy since…um…since…" Neville looked to Ron for help, but Ron just laughed and shrugged.

"Hey, if he's happy, don't bother him with questions, just celebrate!" he said laughing.

Harry grinned. Last night, he had had a sort of revelation, in which he realised that Cassandra had no soul and was of no importance to him, and that if he ever wanted to avenge his true love's death, he had to get over this little crush, stop being such a seventeen year old, and go save the world. He sighed heavily, laughing to himself, but thinking, always thinking, back to Hermione. He smiled again and looked over at the Slytherin table anxiously. He turned back round and finished his toast. After a while, when many Slytherins had left the hall to go to their lessons, Harry stood up and bravely walked over.

"Cassandra?" Cassandra looked round and smiled up at him. Harry sat down next to her and whispered something in her ear.

When he pulled back she looked even happier than she had when she first saw him. "Definitely," she answered. Harry grinned and stood up. He walked back to his table and pretended he didn't know that all of his friends were gaping at him. "Come on," he said, swigging down some orange juice before setting the goblet back down on the table. "We're going to be late for Herbology." Harry walked away, smiling secretly. His friends stood up slowly and followed Harry, leaving all their bursting questions for later.

**I cannot believe that Potter didn't tell me. I can't believe he doesn't trust me enough to…**

**Wait, what am I saying? Of course he doesn't trust me, and I don't trust him either, at all. But still, I didn't think he'd really let me go down with this big plan, whatever it is.**

**…I cannot believe that Potter didn't tell me. The traitor. He just wanted me to get sucked into it all, and come out dead. Dead, or one of them. Potter just wanted to be proved right; that I really was going to become a Death Eater.**

**_Just goes to show how little he knows about me, doesn't it?_**

**_I still can't believe it. I can't believe it. Cassandra - Voldemort's daughter? Cassandra Riddle…. Salazar, I can't believe I never guessed, never realised. I guess that explains why Snape keeps being really nice to her. Actually, no – it doesn't explain why Snape was being nice to her; I thought he'd given up the Death Eater role of life? That's what father told me anyway. He told me that if Snape doesn't return to them soon, they're going to kill him. I hate all this! I hate being Lucius Malfoy's son! I hate having to keep all these secrets of death and treachery! And I don't understand… Why didn't father tell me? Am I all just part of some big plan? Am I just a tool? Or did father want the same as Potter? To either have me dead, or for me to join him and Voldemort…_**

**_Well, I don't care what that bastard thinks. I will never join Voldemort. What my father doesn't seem to understand is that Voldemort doesn't need him anymore. He doesn't need him now he's got his strength back. He's just using him. Because he has ties with Potter. Because I'm his son, and I know Potter…_**

**_…Oh Salazar… I've just realised something…_**

**_Shit. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. I've got to help Potter._**

**_What other choice do I have? If I don't go along with whatever he's up to, assuming whatever he's up to doesn't include the death of me, then I'll just be playing along with my father's game, a pawn in Voldemort's scheme. And everyone will think I will become a Death Eater._**

**_Well I am not going to be a pawn, and I'm certainly not going to be a Death Eater. Not after what happened to mum. I want Voldemort dead, just as much as the next guy. I'll have to talk to Potter. But what am I going to say to him? _****Potter, I know we've been rivals since we first met, and I know I have tried to kill you on several occasions, and you've tried to kill me, but I just thought you'd like to know that I'm not as evil as you've always thought and that I have no intention of joining Voldemort, and I would like to help you in whatever you're going to do to destroy him. Why don't you think about it and get back to me?__**

**No. It's stupid. Potter would never believe me. I'm going to have to do something to prove that I'm not lying.**

**_…_**

**_I've got it. I'll tell him about Narcissa. Ok, so maybe he doesn't realise that yes, I did love my mother (he probably thinks I'm heartless, which I guess now that my mother is gone and that Cassandra dumped me is partly true) but Potter's supposed to be a great guy, right? And if he's as great as everyone says he is, then he has to believe me, doesn't he?_**

**_Salazar Slytherin – listen to me. The whole line of Malfoys would be very disappointed with me right now. And it feels good! It feels good to at last be throwing away whatever the name Malfoy means, and to do what I know the other side of me knows it right; the side my mother made: Draco._**

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a/n: Hello. Hope you didn't think the chapter was too crap. I thought it was ok, but not as good as some of my other chapters. I think I'm going to use the fact that at the moment I'm writing four stories at the same time as an excuse! Please read them! There's this story, of course, there's "Secret Love" (lily/james, 20 chapters so far, romance), "Acerbitas" (draco, 2 chapters so far, angsty), and there's a non-Harry Potter story called "Terra" (2 chapters so far, big plans for a long story, fantasy). Thanks for all your reviews and any suggestions or critiscms are welcomed!! Just review! I'll try to put the next chapter up as soon as I can. ~rowanx


	22. Afraid of Fear

a/n: hope you like the chapter! Is anyone besides elfinchild, dream-catcher and molly still reading this? Ah well. Thanks, you three! Your reviews mean so much to me, when I get home from school and check fanfiction and there's a little review waiting for me :D cheers! If other people ARE still reading and reviewing this, then thank you too! This is longer than most of my chapters, so enjoy! ~rowanx

"Well? Were you successful?"

            "Yes, master. Very successful," grinned Pettigrew nervously.

            "Well?" Lord Voldemort leaned forward in his chair. "Did you get discovered?"

            A man standing to the left of Lord Voldemort grinned cruelly, unnoticed by the servant.

            "No, master. No one saw me. No one." Peter smiled broadly, glad to be able to please his masters.

            Lord Voldemort's strange smile vanished. "What?" he said quietly and dangerously.

            "I-I didn't get caught…" Peter said hesitantly. Why wasn't his master pleased? He had been gone a week now, he had lots of information, he hadn't been seen once, and his master looked very unhappy. What was going on?

            Lord Voldemort dismissed Peter with a hand angrily. "But-but sir," Peter said bravely. "don't you want to know what I found out?"

            "Later!" Lord Voldemort roared. "Now get out!" Peter scurried from the room, shutting the door of the vast library behind him. Lord Voldemort stood and turned to his companion.

            "Strange," the man said. "I was sure he would be seen."

            "So was I. And if not killed by whoever caught him, then surely I would have an excuse to be rid of him." Lord Voldemort paced around the room angrily.

            "But, surely…" started his companion. "If the servant didn't get caught, then perhaps he is of some use to you after all." Lord Voldemort growled in his unhuman-like way.

Draco hurried around the corner, pale-faced, and bumped straight into someone, pushing them to the ground. "Hey!" shouted Seamus from down on the ground. He jumped up and saw Malfoy. "Look where you're going, will ya?"

            Draco grabbed Seamus by the collar and held him up against a wall, despite angry cries of protest from his friends. "Get off me!" yelled Seamus, squirming against Draco's unusually strong grip.

            "Where's Potter?" asked Draco quietly, sounding deadly.

            "Well you should know!" said Seamus, frowning. 

            "Where is he?!" shouted Malfoy desperately.

Seamus frowned. "He's probably getting changed for the Quidditch game." Malfoy's eyes widened. He let go of him and ran off. Seamus turned to Dean and the others. "What the hell was that about?" Everyone shrugged in confusion, and continued on to the game.

Harry pulled on his Griffindor Quidditch robes and flattened down a crease over his shoulder. Elegantly, he turned round to face his team, and picked up his broomstick, smiling at it for a moment. He was very passionate about his broomstick. Turning back to his team, he gave his pre-Quidditch match words of support and advice. "This is the first game of the season. And, again, it's against Slytherin." His team grinned. They all knew that although they pretended they hated to play against Slytherin, they loved it really; it was a great chance to kick their rivals' asses. "Now, we know we're better than them," Harry continued. "The only times we've lost against them is when we've made a few mistakes or have had a lack of concentration." Everyone laughed again. Harry grinned, blushing. "Ok, so I know I'm usually the only one who loses concentration," he admitted, laughing. "But mistakes, you can deal with. Just the tiniest thing could lose us the match, so I want you to be aware of what's going on at all times; not just with what you're doing, but with what every single player out there is doing. Ok?"

            The Quidditch team nodded, did their usual "Go, Go, Griffindor!" chant, then walked out to the wings of the pitch. Ron walked alongside Harry. "So, are we catching the snitch today, Potter?" he said, imitating Malfoy.

            Harry laughed. "Oh yes. Malfoy is going down!" Ron grinned and mounted his broom, as their team were announced. They flew out onto the pitch, and the usual roars and screams entered their ears at an unusual pitch. Harry grinned at Ron then separated away from him, quickly warming up for the game.

            Next, the Slytherin team were announced, and Harry saw seven green figures fly out from the opposite side of the pitch. Harry flew over to his usual spot in the sky and looked down to see what Madam Hooch was doing. Then Harry remembered, and flew back down to the grass and landed. He shook hands with the Slytherin team captain, Freddie Flint, then flew back up again, ready for the whistle to blow. Malfoy flew up to Harry looking angry.

            "Why hello mal-" Harry started, before Malfoy deliberately crashed into him, and he spinned off, falling from his broom. Tactfully, Harry caught his broom with one hand and held on tightly. Malfoy flew slowly over to him. "Malfoy what the hell are you doing?" Harry asked, clutching onto his broom. He put his other hand up and caught his broom, pushing himself up onto it. Malfoy pushed him off again with one hand, and Harry fell, again holding onto his broomstick with just one hand.

            "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Malfoy dangerously.

            "Tell you? Tell you what…?" yelled Harry.

            Ron came flying up. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, looking from Harry to Malfoy. He flew over to Harry and helped him back up onto his broomstick. Harry swung his leg over, and cradled his stretched arm painfully. He looked at Malfoy in suspicion. "Are you sure you're alright?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. Down below, Madam Hooch shouted, asking if everything was alright. The boys nodded, except for Malfoy, who wasn't taking his eyes off Harry for a second. Ron flew back to the ground, giving a last warning glare in Malfoy's direction.

            Malfoy frowned at Harry and flew a little closer to him. Harry didn't back away, not wanting to give Malfoy that satisfaction. "Why didn't you tell me?" Malfoy whispered.

            Harry frowned. "Malfoy I don't know what on earth you're on about!" he protested. Suddenly the whistle blew and the game began. It was a quick goal for Griffindor; Harry noticed they didn't make a single mistake. It was their concentration; it was good. The quaffle had been taken quickly by Ron, who flew over to the goal, pretended to shoot, but instead threw it to Lesley who scored quickly.

            "And that's ten points to Griffindor!" came the overhead announcement. Seamus was the commentator. "And I've been told that we can confirm that the Slytherin goalkeeper is actually asleep at this moment in time." Hoards of laughter floated up from the crowd, and all the Slytherin goalkeeper could do was growl stupidly and look angry. Professor Mcgonagall who was sitting behind Seamus laughed without stopping herself, then put her hand to her mouth blushing. "S-Seamus!" she scolded quickly, remembering she was supposed to be telling him off every now and then for favouritism. Seamus just grinned and looked back at the game, quickly taking up his commentating once more.

            "You just didn't want me to know did you," said Malfoy.

            "Didn't want you to know what?" Harry shouted. A bludger flew past his ear and Malfoy ducked as it flew over his head.

            "You know perfectly well what!"

            "No I don't!" Harry yelled for the hundredth time. Suddenly, a glint of gold caught the corner of his eye, and he went diving after it. He heard Malfoy whizzing up behind him. Suddenly he knocked into him, Harry and his broom went flying sideways, and the snitch was lost. Harry looked around for it frantically, and then flew back to Malfoy. "What the hell was that for?"

            "We're not ending this game until you explain something to me," Malfoy said.

            Harry sighed. It was going to be a long game. Especially since he didn't have a clue what he was supposed to be explaining. He looked over at the scoreboard. Wow; the score was Griffindor 60-20 Slytherin. Ron looked over at him at that point, exasperatedly, and Harry knew what the look meant. It meant hurry up and catch the snitch. **_I'm trying,_** Harry mouthed to him, then Ron flew on, tailing the quaffle.

            "Look, I'm getting bored here Malfoy, so why don't you just tell me what you want me to explain to you." Malfoy was quiet, and was still eyeing Harry dangerously. Harry sighed. "Fine, if you won't tell me, then I'm going after the snitch." Suddenly Harry looked down and dived, flying fast towards the ground. Sure enough, Malfoy followed close afterwards. Harry knew that Malfoy probably wasn't following him to get the snitch himself, but more likely he was following to stop Harry getting the snitch. Harry hadn't tried this for a while, he just hoped it would work.

            "And it looks like Potter's finally seen the snitch!" Seamus shouted, getting the crowd excited. "But Malfoy's following close behind – I wonder if Potter will get it before Malfoy snatches it off him…"

            "Seamus! I told you; no favouritism!"

            "That's not favouritism, professor. Potter saw the snitch first, that's all I was saying!"

            "Oh…well…ok then. Carry on."

            Harry was really close to the ground now. He was about to hit it when he pulled his broom high up into the air and went whooshing skywards. Behind him, painfully, he heard his component smash into the crowd, and all around him, cries of protests and cries of excitement filled the stadium so loud that Harry thought his ears were going to burst.

            "I don't believe it!" Seamus yelled, jumping out of his seat. "Potter pulled of the Wronski Feint, and it worked! And the Slytherin Seeker is out!! Boy is Malfoy going to feel that tomorrow!" Harry turned round on his broomstick to face Malfoy on the ground. Most activity was still going on around him, apart from the Slytherin team captain, who had gone down to attend to his injured seeker.

            Harry sighed and flew back down to the ground. He landed and walked over to Malfoy, who was lying on the floor in pain. Malfoy looked up at him fiercely. "That'll teach you to stop me from playing Quidditch," Harry said simply, before re-mounting his broom and flying back into the air. The Slytherin team captain tried to call a re-match to Madam Hooch, complaining of unfairness, but Wronski Feints were definitely in the rules, and besides, before he had finished complaining, Harry had caught the snitch, and the game was over.

            "Finally!" cried Ron as he flew over to Harry who was holding the golden snitch in his hand.

            "Yeah, sorry it took so long." Harry nodded his head over to the ground where Malfoy was being taken away by Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey.

            "What did he want?" Ron asked, looking over at their enemy.

            "No idea."

            They flew to the ground, as hoards of people ran on and flew around the pitch like headless chickens. Sirius and Remus came rushing from the stands and down to the ground. Sirius was actually crying, and hugged Harry so tightly that neither could breathe too well. "Ah, Harry, you're just as good as your dad was. No, you're _better than James!" He drew away and Remus laughed._

            "He gets a bit emotional when it comes to Quidditch," Remus explained, grinning.

            Harry laughed. "Yeah, I noticed!"

            "But seriously, that was still a great game. That Wronskei Feint was amazing, Harry! Where did you learn that?" Remus asked, marvelling at the brilliance of his former friend's son. Harry just shrugged, still grinning. 

Sirius started burbling again. "Brilliant – it was brilliant…better than Vicktor Krum, I tell you… Hey, Harry – you ever thought of playing for England?" Harry just laughed and walked away, wanting to end the conversation about his future before it happened. 

Once again, Harry and Ron and the others were walking to Potions. Snape was continually talking about their NEWTS that were coming up. The last ever exams they would ever take at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

            Just as Harry was about to enter the classroom, someone pulled him back. Harry turned round angrily to see who had stopped him. It was Lavender. His face softened a bit. He hadn't talked to her for a week now. Since the ball. "Hey, Lavender," he said hesitantly. "How are you?"

            "I'm fine thank you," said the obviously not-so-fine Lavender. She seemed angry about something.

            "What's wrong?"

            Lavender frowned. "Harry, I know this has absolutely nothing to do with me. I'm just "a friend"; just like Seamus, Dean, Neville, Parvati… just like everyone else. I know I'm nothing particularly special to you," Harry flinched at the coldness in her voice, "so I don't know why I'm even saying this to you right now, but…" She paused and sighed. "Tell me – what is going on?"

            Harry blinked. "A-bout-what?"

            Lavender sighed again. "Harry don't lie to me. I know something's going on. I know about your…that…that thing you can do, with your mind. Please, just tell me. I'm worried about you. I want to help."

            Harry frowned. Could he tell Lavender? More overly, **_should_ he tell Lavender? He wasn't sure. He did care for her, of course he did. He didn't want her worrying or anything. "Look, Lavender, can I talk to you later? We're already late enough for potions as it is."**

            Lavender breathed out crossly. "Fine. If you think potions is more important than whatever it is you're keeping from me, then fine." She barged on past him into the dungeon. Harry followed her at a distance.

            "You're late, Potter."

            "Sorry, professor."

            "Five points from Griffindor."

            "Yes, professor."

            "See me at the end."

            "Ok, professor."

            "Now stop dawdling and go take your seat before I change my mind and make it ten points."

            "Yes, professor, thank you professor." Harry walked over to his seat next to Ron without even a little change in his attitude. He went through this practically every single time he had potions now. But he wasn't usually asked to stay behind. Oh well. Just another chance for Snape to shout at him about time-wasting.

            Harry looked around for Cassandra. She was sitting near the front, far away from Malfoy. She caught Harry's eye and blew a kiss over. Harry struggled, but managed to grin back at her before turning to his Griffindors. "So, big date this weekend?" Seamus teased as they got their books out.

            "Yep," Harry said with no emotion at all.

            "…You excited?"

            "I guess."

            "…Well…um…good." Seamus was confused. "Um…Harry? Can I ask you something?"

            "Sure."

            "Why?"

            Harry looked up properly this time. "Why what?"

            Seamus breathed out and prepared himself. "Why are you going out with her?" Harry looked puzzled. "Why, when you said she was a horrible bitch just the other day, and you refused to go out with her when she asked you at the ball?"

            "Oh, I – I just changed my mind, that's all."

            Seamus leaned back in his chair, once again unsatisfied by his friend's reply. Seamus wasn't dumb; he knew that something was going on as well as Lavender. And Dean and Neville and Parvati. Despite what Harry thought of them, they were worried about him. None of them wanted to lose their friend, even if that friend didn't appear to trust them all that much.

            The lesson was incredibly boring; even from most of the Slytherins' points of view. All they did was look over some notes for a test next week to "prepare" them for the NEWTs. But regardless of how bored Harry was, he was still surprised when the end of the lesson came, and he was being called up to Snape's desk. "You know, I think out of the entire school, you must be the one who's been kept behind the most," Ron whispered in Harry ear, grinning. Harry shoved him away smiling, then walked over to Snape's desk.

            Harry was actually quite glad he'd been called to stay behind, because there was something that had been bugging him; that he had been wanting to talk to Snape about. Harry didn't say anything though. Always let the enemy talk first.

            "Harry, I didn't just call you behind because you were late today," Snape started. "Professor Dumbledore is a busy man, so he wanted me to talk to you."

            "About what, sir?"

            "How are things with Ca-Cassandra?"

            Harry frowned in wonder at the stutter, but moved quickly past it. For now. "Fine. It's going great."

            "Plan working ok?"

            "As far as I know, yes." Snape nodded in satisfaction. "…Professor, can I ask you something?" asked Harry

            Snape frowned in suspicion. "Well…what is it?"

            "Why are you really nice to Cassandra?"

            Snape's eyes widened. "Well..she…she's a Slytherin, isn't she…"

            "And why do you stutter whenever you talk about her?"

            "About-about cas-cassandra? I…I don't know what you're…"

            "And why do you get really nervous whenever we talk about this 'plan' of ours?"

            To this, Snape made no reply. He said nothing, and looked away from Harry's glance for what seemed like an eternity. But Harry was patient. He could wait for the long-awaited explanation. Finally, Snape brought his head back up and looked into Harry's eyes. "Potter, you need to believe me – I am no longer a Death Eater…"

            "How do I know that?" Harry asked. Snape looked troubled. "What other explanation could there be of being nice to your master's daughter?"

            Snape stood up dangerously. "Harry Potter how dare you even make that accusation! Do you think, that if there was even an ounce of doubt that I wasn't true and faithful to the good in this world, that Albus would have even hired me to teach here?"

            Harry was quite a bit taller than he used be, when he used to be afraid of Snape, small and fragile under his tall, darkened form. They were roughly the same height now. Harry walked forward a bit, so that only the desk came between the two. "Harry, we need to trust each other here. This is serious. It isn't silly little hero games you and your friends used to play with the Dark Lord. This is real. This time, we're going to kill him. Destroy him. And we cannot do that if you think I'm some sort of a spy!"

            Harry frowned. "Fine. But then only way I can trust you, Snape," (Harry thought that using his name would create the effect he needed – it did.), "Is if you tell me exactly why you're not a Death Eater anymore, and why you're so nice to Cassandra and yet so afraid of her?"

            Snape stood still, then slowly sat down. Harry sat on the edge of one of the desks in the front row. "Ok," Snape said quietly. "I did used to be a Death Eater, you know that much. And Voldemort still thinks I am. Or at least, that's what he was supposed to think."

            "What do you mean?"

            "Albus told me I should go and spy on Voldemort, pretend I'm still loyal to him. To get you information on where he is, what his plans are, things like that. But I was too afraid."

            "Why?"

            Snape wryly laughed a quick harsh laugh. "Why do you think, Potter? I was too afraid that I would want to go back. Not just as a spy." Snape paused. "Too afraid that even just being near Voldemort would corrupt me, make me power-hungry. 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' Heard that somewhere. Can't remember where. Doesn't matter. But the point is, I'm not a Death Eater. Not even pretending to be one. Because I do not want to be that kind of man, Potter. I do not want to destroy. You have to believe that." Harry didn't say anything. He was still thinking about all this, still taking it all in and chewing it in his brain, figuring it all out. With a sigh, Snape went on. "The reason why I…get nervous, around Cassandra, why something makes me act nice to her all the time, is that I knew from the beginning that she was Voldemort's daughter. Of course I did. I was a Death Eater a long time, Potter. I thought she was here to try and trick me into going back to Voldemort. And tell him what was happening. It's like the mafia, Potter. If you're not nice to one of them, you get beaten by the rest of them."

            "Is that why you didn't tell us sooner?" Harry said, outraged. "Because you were worried about yourself?"

            Snape sighed. "Partly. Anyway, Cassandra asked me again and again to think about returning to her dad, and each time, I said, 'Soon, soon, I just have to get ready to leave Hogwarts'. I never once thought of actually returning. That was just to buy me time."

            Harry leaned back. "You were afraid," he said quietly. Snape looked up sharply. "Can't blame you for being afraid. At least you did tell us eventually, or I expect we'd all be near-death right now."

            Snape nodded slowly. But there was still one thing Harry wanted to know. "Professor, what made you want to become a Death Eater in the first place?"

            Snape stood, looking very menacing against the dark walls of the dim-lighted dungeon. "Why else? Revenge." Snape turned and walked out of the dungeon. Harry sat for a while, feeling confused, and angry that Snape wasn't going to tell him anything else, before finally he stood and left, deciding not to push the fragile teacher now on his side. Snape was afraid of power, of being corrupt and evil like he once was – who could blame him? Harry's fear was much worse: he was afraid he wouldn't be able to go through with it all, afraid he'd be too scared to stand up to Voldemort when the time came. He was afraid of fear.


	23. A Vision

Harry ran over to Ron and skidded to a halt next to him, panting to recover his breath. "Hey…Ron…" he said, breathing deeply. "Have…you seen…Lavender?"

            "Uh…yeah, yeah I think she just went passed us. You coming to dinner? You'll see her there."

            Harry nodded and they walked on into the hall. Harry sat purposely down next to Lavender and smiled at her. She ignored him. "Lavender?" Harry said. "Lav-en-derrr?" he said in a sing song voice. Still she ignored him. "I'm sorry for being an asshole, mate," Harry said in a really stupid obviously-fake low voice. He punched Lavender playfully on the shoulder.

            The sides of Lavender's mouth tugged and she laughed. "Don't swear," she said, trying to sound scolding.

            "Yes, ma'am!" Harry saluted her and she laughed again.

            Hesitating, Lavender stopped laughing and turned to Harry. "Look, she said, I'm sorry for going on at you before. Whatever's going on with you, it really isn't any of my business. Even though I do wish you trusted me more…" she smiled. "I understand. But you do know I'm here for you, right?"

            Harry nodded. "Thanks, Lavender." He hugged her and as he did so his head turned towards the Slytherin table. He gasped and stood up at the sight he saw. Time had slowed down. Everyone one of the Slytherins had blood dripping from their mouths. Harry gasped in horror. They looked normal enough other than that; they were all eating and laughing with each other, in slow motion. But the food…they were eating animals…live animals…they were eating live animals like, like barbarians. Harry scanned quickly for Cassandra. She was just the same as everyone else. She was eating a lion. It was a horrible sight; she ripped an ear off and stuffed it into her mouth, laughing as she did so. Then Harry quickly looked for Malfoy, and opened his mouth in surprise. Malfoy was the only one with no blood, no wild animals in his grasp. He looked pretty uncomfortable, and at the same time annoyed, that everyone around him was – different, to him.

            "Harry?" Lavender stood up and stared at Harry. She looked over to the Slytherin table and back again. "What is it?" she asked, worried by Harry's horrified expression.

            Harry looked at her and blinked. "Huh? What?" he said, having not fully heard what she'd said to him. Harry looked back at the Slytherin table. Things had turned back to normal. Cassandra was just pilling some peas onto her plate, and her mouth was as clean as ever. Just like everyone else's'. But Malfoy looked the same. Still angry, still uncomfortable, still not eating.

            "Harry?" Lavender said again. She poked him in the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

            He turned to her. "Did you…" he stopped and looked back to the Slytherin table.

            Ron leaned back in his chair to look past Lavender to Harry. "What's going on?" he asked at the looks on his friends faces.

            "No idea. Ask him."

            Harry frowned. "Nothing. Nothing's going on." Harry then squinted over at Cassandra. Something had just come to him. He looked back at Malfoy. Harry caught him looking over at Cassandra. Cassandra noticed and looked back at him, but Malfoy merely turned away in what appeared to be disgust. Harry closed his eyes and opened them again. Of course – how could he have been so stupid? 

"Hello? Planet Hogwarts to Harry?" Ron had stood and he moved his hand up and down in front of Harry's face. Harry walked over to the Slytherin table, ignoring Ron completely, with all thoughts of visions vanished from his mind. He walked over to where Malfoy was sitting. There was an empty space next to him (his bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, were nowhere to be seen). Harry took in a deep, brave breath and sat down. Almost the entire hall fell silent. What was he doing? A Griffindor at a Slytherin's table? A Potter next to a Malfoy? Ridiculous!

            Malfoy looked around and then raised his eyebrows at Harry. "Are you lost, Potter?"

            "Ok, shut up Malfoy. You might wanna get something straight before you take all this out of proportion. One, I hate you more than almost anything and everything. And two, no I'm not lost. We…need to talk."

            " 'We need to talk' ? Oh no, you're not breaking up with me, are you?"

            "Malfoy –"

            "'Cause I really couldn't take that kind of heartbreak!"

            Malfoy pretended to be sobbing, and a few Slytherins burst out with laughter. Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing Malfoy by the shoulder and pulling him up with him. "Hey, I haven't finished my dinner!" he complained.

            "I don't care, let's go." Harry walked out of the hall, knowing that Malfoy would follow him.

            Harry walked up the stairs, along a corridor and into an empty classroom. Malfoy walked inside and Harry shut the door behind him. Malfoy looked around. "Wow – so this is your 'Make-out Room' all the girls are always going on about is it?" He turned and stared at a furious red-eared Harry. "Sorry, Potter, but you really aren't my type."

            Harry forced himself to calm down, he wasn't going to let Malfoy get to him – again. He sat down in a chair. "I'm sorry," he said.

            Malfoy showed no expression. Potter had never apologised to him before. "For what?" he asked, all sarcasm gone from his tone.

            "For not telling you about Cassandra."

            Malfoy sat down slowly. "Oh yeah – I was wondering when we'd get round to talking about that."

            "That's what you were talking about at the game, wasn't it?"

            Draco nodded. "Potter, lemme ask you something –"

Harry nodded, and Draco hesitated, searching for the right words. "What's Dumbledore's plan?"

            Harry raised an eyebrow and slowly sat himself down. "What?"

            "I happen to be at the very high top of a lot of my classes, Potter. I'd be useful to you."

Harry blinked. "…What?" he asked again.

Draco sighed. "Ok, listen – in all seriousness… I want you to know that I would never ever join the...you-kn...Voldemort," he finished.

            "Oh really?" asked Harry sarcastically. "Oh come on, Malfoy - how am I supposed to believe that? You've always loved your daddy and all his friends. Why wouldn't you join..."

            "Voldemort killed my mother."

            "…Oh." Harry sat in stunned silence. "He killed your mum?" he asked more sympathetically.

            "Yeah." Malfoy wasn't avoiding Harry's eyes, he didn't look uncomfortable, he didn't even looked pissed off or upset. He just looked like he always did. Harry realised that he had never been able to tell what Malfoy was feeling very easily. But then again, the longest time Harry had probably ever spent with his enemy was during a Quidditch Match. "Look, Potter, I don't need your sympathy, and I don't need you telling everyone about this, ok? The only people who know are Dumbledore and Snape." 

            Harry nodded. "Ok. You wanna tell me what happened?"

"Ok, let's get one thing straight here before you get all buddy-buddy on me," Malfoy said standing up. "We are not friends, we never will be friends, and I don't like you. I hate Voldemort and would quite like to get revenge on him for killing my mother just because she didn't want to join the dark side. So yeah, I would like to help you kill the bastard, but other than that, I will try to spend as little time as possible by your side venting about our lost families as if we had something in common." Malfoy moved towards the door. 

            "We do have something in common," came Harry's voice from behind him.

            Malfoy turned. "Yeah? And what would that be, then? We both hate orange hats?"

            "Other than that." Harry walked up to his most hated enemy for over six years. His face was so close to Malfoy's that their noses were almost touching. "We both hate Voldemort." Harry turned and walked over to the door. "I'll tell Dumbledore about what you said," he said shortly, before leaving the classroom. Draco felt pissed. Potter had had the last word _again_. "Dammit. How does he do that?"

Harry hurried along the corridors having no intention on returning to dinner. Having not taken Divination for several years, he wasn't sure whether it would still be in the stuffy almost un-findable room right at the top of Hogwarts. When he got there, he opened the trapdoor and climbed through. He hadn't actually been expecting to find the divination professor there – he thought she'd be down at dinner. All he'd been expecting to find was a few crystal balls he could look into.

            "Hello Harry," came the soft voice from Professor Thystle. She was a very young looking witch though from the few times Harry had ever spoken to her or seen her he thought she seemed much older. Wise beyond her years. Her hair was short and black and curved underneath her pierced ears which had a moon dangling from one and a row of stars dangling from the other. Harry had always thought she was extremely weird, but he liked her much more than Professor Trelawney. Thystle was much easier to talk to and she didn't hand out death warnings to you ever five minutes.

            "Hi professor," Harry said, stepping into the classroom. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." Thystle was sitting at her desk with seven crystal balls on it surrounding her in a neat semi-circle.

            "That's quite alright, Harry," she said kindly, standing up. Harry looked around the classroom. It was the same that it had been last time he was in here three years ago. Although the smell was quite different. Instead of the stuffy smoky smell he remembered, it smelled of lavender incense. Harry turned to Thystle and smiled at her. There was something about her that just made you smile. She was so friendly, so warm and welcoming. "Is there anything I can do for you, Harry?" He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. "Or is this just about that vision you just had?"

            Harry had given up being astonished when Thystle said things like that. She had been at Hogwarts for three years now, ever since Trelawney had left, and even just walking around corners and bumping into her, she had told him once she was ever so sorry that there was no pumpkin juice left. After several hours of extreme confusion, Harry had arrived at dinner late after a detention with Filch to find that all the pumpkin juice had gone. After many occasions like this, Ron and Hermione had made jokes that Thystle had a soft spot for Harry; she didn't make predictions and apologise in advance to anyone else. Harry had blushed and denied all teases, but he did wonder now why Thystle always told him things about the future but didn't tell anyone else.

            "Yeah, it's about the vision," he said, moving around to the edge of a table and sitting on it.

            Thystle nodded and sat back down into her chair. "Well, I assume by now you've had that little chat with Master Malfoy." Harry nodded. "You can't decide whether or not to trust him, can you?" Thystle said, sounding understanding. Harry nodded again. Conversations with Thystle usually tended to be one-sided, as she already knew what the other thought anyway. "Well, tell me what you think," she said, offering him the chance to voice what she already knew.

            "Well, I do need to trust him really," Harry said, "I mean, I haven't got a choice, have I? He knows a lot of people, he could be really useful, and he told me about his mum which of course could be a lie but for some strange reason I do believe him and…" Harry stopped, realising that everything he was saying wouldn't make any sense to most people. Then, remembering Thystle probably already knew about the plan for Voldemort and the death of Draco's mum, he continued. "And he knows about Cassandra now. Surely if he knew and he wanted to be with Voldemort he would have talked and schemed with her, but I saw him today, and he was looking at her with such a homicidal look in his eyes…I do trust him. I have to."

            Thystle smiled and leaned back. "But…"

            Harry frowned. "But I hate him," he said. "I hate him so much. I hate him for being spiteful, for being the arrogant, cocky, sarcastic, careless, filthy Malfoy that he is. I hate him for making fun of Ron's…financial situation," Harry said, wanting to put it lightly, "for making fun of his family and his red hair and his freckles which finally he's grown out of." Thystle smiled. "I hate him for calling Hermione a mud blood when she is the best person I know…" Harry stopped, swallowed and corrected himself. "The best person I _knew. And the best wizard in our year. I hate him for making fun about me being an orphan when he has no idea how hard it is. And I hate him for hating me when I've given him no reason to."_

            "Well, maybe you have," Thystle said. She leaned forward and placed her hands on the table. "You say he made no attempt to become friends with you. He offered his hand to you and you refused it because he'd made fun of two of your new friends. Then he vowed a hatred upon you which I believe has lasted for almost seven years now. But you vowed the same thing." She smiled. "First appearances can be deceiving. How much do you know Malfoy?" Harry opened his mouth to speak but Thystle cut him off. "Let me rephrase that. How much do you _think _you know Malfoy?" Harry was silenced. "After all, you didn't know about the death of his much beloved mother, did you? You don't know how much he cried for her in the long weeks after she'd 'disappeared' and he'd given up hope of her ever coming back, do you? You didn't know he was capable of such love, until you saw him with Cassandra, happy and smiling until she dumped him _for you_ – did you? And you don't know how hard it is for him to be Mr Tough Guy, the most powerful Slytherin here at Hogwarts, whom everyone respects and fears…when all he really wants, is a true friend, who he can trust – do you?"

            Harry felt stunned into silence. Slowly, he grinned. "How do you know all this, professor?" he asked.

            She smiled and stood up. She held up her hands. "I'm a divination teacher, what do you expect?"

            "But how can you know so much about Malfoy when I've obviously only just grazed the surface?" Harry asked.

            Thystle came around the edge of her table and leaned against it. "That's because I never let myself become blinded with emotion." She looked down, and back up again. "Now, onto this vision of yours. Tell me exactly what you saw."

            Harry described to her his vision in full detail, and when he finished, she nodded wisely. "Yes. Yes, I see. Now, Harry, can you think at all of what this dream might mean?"

            "That all Slytherins are barbaric pigs?" he tried.

            Thystle smiled. "Close, but no."

            Harry sighed and thought about it. "That…Malfoy isn't as bad as the others? As bad as I always thought he was?"

            "And?" Thystle asked, prompting him.

            Harry frowned, then it came to him. "And that Cassandra's just as bad as I always thought she was."

            Thystle smiled, but didn't say anything. "So, do you trust Malfoy more now?"

            Harry nodded. "I guess. But professor – why did I have the vision? I'm not a diviner."

            "No, no you're not. But everything happens for a reason. You saw that vision because it helps you to see things more clearly. You've been so blinded for years through your hate of Malfoy, that you've never seen him properly." Harry looked confused. Thystle smiled, mockingly at him. "You'll understand next time you see him." She stood and so did Harry. "Thank you for coming, Harry."

            "Thanks for all your help," Harry said. He turned and walked out of the classroom without another word.

A/N: Did you like the chapter? DID YOU? I hope so. I liked writing it, anyway! :D so, anyone like Staind? I got their new album it's REALLY good! Listening to it now, yum. Ok, so ignore me…………………….. REVIEW please. I could really do with some to inspire me to write the next chappie. :D *looks round* what? It's not blackmail. Saying you won't write the next chapter till you get reviews ISN'T blackmail :P just a little…um…helpful tip for you to be able to _read _the next chapter. See? There's a difference isn't there? Do you _see _the difference? *runs away from angry mob*. ~rowanx


	24. Just Another Dream, Just Another Memory

A/N: YAY HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX IS OUT IN LESS THAN ONE WEEK!!!!!!!!!!! YAYNESS!!!! By the way, I'm not going to change this at all if things are different between my ideas and JKs in the new book. I'll just pretend that book five isn't out yet! But if I do decide to do a sequel after this, then I might go back and change a few things – it all depends on what happens in the fifth book! YAY AGAIN!! ~rowanx

(sorry this took so long to put up – fanfiction is being annoying and hasn't let me put it up for AGES!)

Harry walked up to his dormitory, feeling a bit shaken – or maybe it was just a rush of excitement. These days, he couldn't tell the difference between joy and misery. All he knew, was that the boy – or man, he supposed – whom he had loathed for almost seven years, maybe wasn't who he thoughts he was. It was quite frightening.

                "Sherbet lemon," said Harry with a slightly crazy smile. What could you do when in a situation (or should I say, _lots _of bad situations) like Harry was in other than ignore it all away with laughter? He walked into the common room where many of his friends were doing homework, chatting, or playing chess, one of the strangely popular pass times in the wizarding world. Harry walked up to Ron and Seamus playing chess. It looked intense. Ron would win, obviously, but Seamus wasn't going to go down without a fight. "Men," came a disapproving tone from beside Harry. Without looking, he closed his eyes and smiled. "They're so competitive. Why can't they play just for the fun of it?"

                Harry opened his eyes and looked at the figure beside him. "Oh, and you're _not _competitive?" he asked quietly. "Face it Hermione, you hate it when anyone beats you." Hermione went bright red. Harry grinned. "But we love you anyway."

                She smiled suggestively. "We?"

                "Ok, _I love you. So much." He leaned in to kiss her._

                "Harry!" Harry's eyes jolted open to face Ron looking up at him from his seat at the table. Harry turned round but no one was standing there. He sighed. Just another dream; just another memory… "How long have you been standing there?" asked Ron.

                "Absolutely no idea," said Harry uncaringly.

                Lavender came up. "Harry," she said, "what happened at dinner?"

                "Yeah, where did you go?" asked Ron. At this point everyone felt intrigued at the conversation and turned round to hear the answer. Harry frowned. He felt claustrophobic. Why did everyone feel the need to eavesdrop on things that obviously had nothing to do with them?

                "I didn't go anywhere," Harry said. "Just didn't feel too well, that's all." This didn't quite have the effect Harry was hoping on. Instead of shrugging their shoulders and returning to their much beloved game, everyone looked concerned and worried and even Ron felt compelled to ask him if he was alright. "Look, I'm fine, ok? Absolutely fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? People get headaches and stomach aches all the time. It's nothing to be worried about!"

                A few people raised their eyebrows and returned to watch the game, every now and then looking up at them. Lavender was whispering with Parvati and every now and then looked at Harry. He folded his arms huffily. A pair of hands gripped his shoulders and massaged them gently. "They just want to make sure you're ok," came the gentle voice.

                "But I'm fine," Harry insisted, letting his arms go loose. "Why do they have to worry all the time?"

                He turned around and Hermione smiled. "Maybe because as much as you want to pretend you're normal, you're not. Not with Voldemort..."

                Harry gasped. "You said his name!"

                Hermione laughed, her whole body shaking with free glee. "After facing him in death, I have nothing more to worry about," she said. Harry smiled and turned back to watch the game. As the hands slid off of his shoulders, he sighed, but didn't bother to turn round, knowing that she would be gone. _Why can't I just forget her? "What the fuck is going on?"_

                As a few people gasped and turned around Harry realised he must have accidentally said some of his thoughts aloud. After trying to look sorry, he just grinned at himself in stupidity. Turning from the group he moved over to the portrait hole. "Harry, are you alright?" asked Ron.

                "Yep."

                "Where are you going?"

                "There's something I need to do."

                "Want me to come?"

                "No." Harry left Ron feeling shocked at Harry's abruptness and sudden hostility and walked along the corridor, down some stairs, up some stairs, round some corners, and stopped at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Mumbling the nearly-forgotten password Dumbledore had told him at the prefect meeting (bumble bee), the statue moved aside and Harry walked up the steps. He knocked on the door, heard the distant voice from inside welcome him in, opened the door, and stepped inside.

                "Ah Harry," said Dumbledore with a hint of sorrow in his voice. He rose from the seat behind his desk. Harry walked up without saying a word. Dumbledore waved his hand at the empty chair and Harry sat down. "Well now, what is it you wanted to see me about?"

                "It's about Draco Malfoy."

                "Ah yes," said Dumbledore with a small smile, as if he already knew exactly what Harry was there to talk to him about. Harry assumed that either Thystle had spoken to him or that Harry's Head Master was wiser than he could ever know or understand.

                "He wants to join us, sir," Harry said. Dumbledore nodded, implying Harry should go on. Harry shifted nervously under the gaze of Dumbledore. "Well, um, that was it really," he said.

                "Do you think he would be of a help to us?" asked Dumbledore after a long pause.

                Harry waited a moment before answering. "Do you mean do I think we should let him help us?"

                "It is not a question of 'let' or 'allow', Harry. If Draco wants to help us, he is already doing so by not helping Voldemort."

                "Assuming he's not a spy."

                "I do not assume, Harry; I know."

                "Ok, so then by your question do you mean do I want him to help us? I mean, obviously he would; his father has great connections and I won't deny that Malfoy is quite good at his subjects." Harry waited for Dumbledore to say something, and when he didn't, Harry continued. "Ok then; no, I don't want Malfoy to help us. I've hated him for seven years and I don't see why all that should change just because you and Thystle, sorry, _Professor Thystle, think you know us better than we know ourselves." Harry didn't realise he had stood, but was now looking down at Dumbledore rather than across to him. _

Dumbledore sat quite still and calm, not rising to Harry's anger. "Harry, you say you know Malfoy better than we do?"

                "Yes I do. He has no friends, and I'm his enemy; I'm the closest thing he has to a human being. He has no friends not just because no one likes him, but because he doesn't like anyone. He hates it when I beat him at Quidditch even though I always do. He's good at all of his subjects especially Potions because the professor likes him so he sucks up. He carries a mirror around because he's so vain about his looks; he happens to think he's the best looking in the school. And the bad-boy. He doesn't care if he gets detention because he can add it to his list to show off to Daddy, but it does waste some of his precious looking-in-the-mirror time which is of course disastrous. I know that Malfoy hates to be wrong. I know he's as stubborn as hell. He always gets his way in the end, and if you do get your way, he makes it look as though it was his way all along. He goes to any lengths to make himself feel good. To make me feel bad. To boost his ego. He plans far in advance for any tricks he plays on me or my Gryffindor friends. He doesn't give a shit about me, about you, about anyone; the only reason he's even willing to help us is because Voldemort killed his mum and he hates his father." Harry breathed in deeply and in a lower voice said, "And I know that if things were to change, he'd turn his back on us in a second." 

                Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at Harry, making Harry think that somehow he hadn't quite won this round as he had thought he had. "Well then Harry," said Dumbledore standing. "You've just proven to me what I needed to know. Thank you." Dumbledore sat again and picked up a piece of parchment

                Harry stood feeling confused, uncertain whether to sit, stay standing or leave. "Um, sorry sir…" Dumbledore looked up at Harry. "…but, what did you need to know?"

                "Whether I should ask Draco for his immediate assistant."

                "And…what did I help you to decide?"

                Dumbledore smiled. "From what you've just told me I gather that he runs on pure emotions. He does what his heart tells him, whether he realises this or not. He has morals, because he hates his father, which I will not bother to deny that I do have a certain distaste for. You say he doesn't like anyone. I say he doesn't trust anyone. I say we re-build that trust. You say he's stubborn, I say he's determined. He will indeed help us reach our goal. He does have good connections. And I do know he's good at his subjects. I am the one who made him prefect after all," Dumbledore added with a small childish grin that disappeared as soon as it appeared. "Thank you Harry for being so understanding and helping me decide what to do. I'm sure you're choice will be the right one." He smiled at Harry.

Harry frowned. "Um, thank you, sir, I guess…"

"You may alert Mr Malfoy that we are to have a meeting tomorrow evening to discuss Saturday night. Good day, Mr Potter."

                Harry left Dumbledore's office feeling more confused than he had when he'd entered it.

It was breakfast. The previous evening Harry had entered the common room and gone straight to bed without anyone noticing. Now he sat one of the few people in the hall with his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes wearily. Not much sleep had been gained the previous night. Harry had been too over-whelmed with thoughts to sleep.

                "Good morning oh cheery one." Harry jumped. He saw Ron smile down at him as his best friend sat down and poured some juice.

                Harry sighed. "Urgh," he said.

                "And what's annoying you today?" asked Ron grinning. "Lack of sleep?"

                Harry shook his head and stared at the table. "Reverse Psychology," he mumbled.

                Ron frowned. "Uh…why?"

                "Malfoy's helping us get Voldemort."

                "Oh." The two sat in silence for about a minute before Ron said, "Huh?"

                Harry explained to him all about what Malfoy had said, about him knowing, about wanting to help, and all about what Dumbledore said. The only things he left out were his vision, the conversation with Thystle and…Hermione. Harry thought that there were some things which were meant to be a secret.

                "Wow," said Ron when Harry had finished. "And you're really ok with Draco helping?"

                "Of course not," Harry said. "Dumbledore tricked me into it."

                Ron sighed. "That cocky, wise, cool, always-right, always-knows-what-to-do, powerful, helpful bastard," he grumbled before the two of them burst out laughing. They could never hate Dumbledore. He was practically their hero. He _was their hero._

                They started eating their breakfast. The mail came in. Hedwig swooped down into Harry's lap and Harry read the note that he'd untied from her leg.

                _Harry – _

_                Sure. I'll be there._

_                -Draco _

Harry grinned despite himself. He loved the abruptness of Draco's letters. The previous night Harry had sent Draco a letter telling him about the meeting tonight that Dumbledore was having.

                Harry showed Ron the note. His friend didn't smile as he had done, but he did nod in what was hopefully approval and not too much annoyance and turned back to his delightful breakfast of coco pops.

Harry sat in Dumbledore's office that night with the others, waiting for Malfoy to arrive, with a blur of boring events passing by his eyes covering the day in which he had just spent. First, double potions: Harry glared at Snape – he had shouted at him at least ten times for things Harry was sure were unimportant. Harry supposed Snape was making up for all the hours in which they had to be friends. Next they endured a test in transfiguration, that Harry was sure he'd failed. With all the stress in his life, was he really supposed to care about school work? At least in the afternoon, Harry had a free period to do his homework on "Three interesting facts about Merlin" for a history of magic. At first, Harry had found it hard to believe that anything could be interesting about a history of magic, taught by the most boring professor ever, but Merlin had been quite a fascinating man. He'd had a son called Arthur, but there was no royal history in the family line. But anyway, an interesting session with Merlin was followed by an enormously boring history lesson about the farcical tales of king Arthur which of course never happened, they were "simply made up by Merlin to create a little publicity. In actual fact, he was rather annoyed that Uther Pendragon had stolen his horse…" and so on.

                Malfoy entered the office looking as though her thought he were too important too care about anything. He was wearing a casual white shirt (rather odd for him, thought Harry, thinking of his enemy's usual taste for black) with most of the buttons done up and untucked, and a pair of black jeans which covered most of what Harry assumed were Malfoy's usual pair of dragon hide boots. Harry smiled. He did know Malfoy better than he'd thought. He smirked as Malfoy walked over "coolly" to sit in the empty seat next to Harry, but scooting as far to the edge of the large chair as he could. Harry could tell Malfoy was nervous about the meeting, and to hide it, had decided to look as good as he possibly could. Harry wondered how many hours Malfoy had spent in front of his mirror, and then pretended he had simply fallen asleep.

                Dumbledore leaned forward onto his desk and clasped his hands together. "Good evening Malfoy. How are you today?"

                "Terrible, thanks," said Malfoy smiling. "And yourself?"

                Dumbledore had either not heard the words or had simply chosen not to. "Now, Malfoy, I have been assured that Harry has told you everything necessary to know?"

                "If you mean everything to do with Cassandra," Malfoy said with a hint of scorn, "then yes, most unfortunately, I know about this stupid plan." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. "Well come on," said Malfoy, smiling. "Do you really think that Harry can just kill Voldemort by act of surprise? You need more than surprise to defeat the darkest and most powerful lord of our time. Sure, Potter's been ok so far, he's still alive, yeah; but what makes you think he can kill him? Defeat him? Make Voldemort go bye bye?"

                Dumbledore glanced at Harry who looked away. He had forgotten to tell Malfoy about his new powers. Or, rather, he had purposely avoided it, not wanting his enemy to have more reasons to tease and hate him. Malfoy looked around at the room. Everyone was suddenly avoiding everyone elses eyes. "What?" asked Malfoy. "Come on, if you guys really want to trust me, then give me a reason to trust you." Harry frowned; he'd never thought about it from Malfoy's point of view before. He supposed Malfoy really didn't have a reason to trust them. Harry had just assumed he would: they were the good guys. They were the ones against Voldemort. "So?" Malfoy pressed. "What's your secret weapon?"

                Dumbledore looked at Harry, who sighed, and turned to face a smirking Malfoy. "Oh great," he said scornfully. "You again."

                "Yes," said Harry. "Me again." He chewed over his thoughts for a moment, and then said, "Over the summer I realised I didn't need a wand to do magic."

                Malfoy blinked for a moment, paused, blinked some more, then said, "Come again?"

                Harry frowned. "I don't need a wand. I could probably put the imperius curse on you from over here without having to even move."

                "Really?"

                "Well, maybe not the imperius curse, but I can light a fire, make things fly to my hand, and, apparently, kill very strong hermits with a crap spell…" Malfoy raised an eyebrow. Harry brushed it aside. "The point is, Voldemort doesn't know I can do this. We can catch him by surprise. Make him gasp, make him hesitate. And then kill him."

                Various members of the room nodded. Malfoy looked around at them, and chuckled, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. "And what do you find funny, Mr Malfoy?" asked Dumbledore.

                "Well, I'm sure going in to kill a muggle murderer, the element of surprise and a gift you _think_ you are certain the murderer doesn't have would work; but this is Voldemort we're talking about. What makes you think he doesn't have this power himself? Unusable until he is fully back to power which, ladies and gentlemen, in case you forgot, he is. Voldemort knows something is coming. Potter told me about that mirror you found. He's had plenty of time to plan, just as long as you've had, and longer. You think just because you've planned your shit, it means you're more prepared than he is. Highly doubtful. I've lived with Lucius Malfoy for seventeen years, I know what he's like, and, most unfortunately, I know what Voldemort is like. He doesn't slip up, he doesn't make mistakes, and he makes sure he's ready for anything." Malfoy leaned forward in his chair. "How can you place all your energy on one plan that you're not even sure is going to work?"

                Harry turned to Dumbledore. "You ask me how I can be so sure, Mr Malfoy? I am so sure because it's the only thing that can work." Malfoy slowly leaned back in his chair. "If this doesn't succeed, then I doubt anything will," Dumbledore said wearily. "So we have to believe that it will."

                Malfoy shook his head. After a few moments, he said, "Fine."

                Dumbledore nodded, satisfied with this short reply. "Good." He turned to Harry. Harry gulped. Now that the business with Malfoy was over, the meeting was going to be focused on him. Surprisingly, Harry really hated getting loads of attention. "Now, Harry, Arabella and Mundgus have been doing some fine work for the pat couple of weeks." He turned to them. Arabella smiled, obviously pleased with herself.

                It was Mundungus though who said, "We think we know where Voldemort is." Harry's first thought was that Mundungus had called Voldemort by his name. The fear was beginning to fade. His second thought, which he said out loud, was, of course, "How?"

                "With some intensive research and absolutely no sleep," Mundungus complained heartedly. "But the point is, we know, or, think we know, where he is."

                "Well?" said Harry after a while. "Where?"

                Mundungus looked at Arabella, who, purposely avoiding both Harry and Malfoy's eyes, said, "Malfoy Manor." No one else was quite as shocked or surprised as Harry and Draco were. Harry assumed they had already been told. 

The two boys looked at each other at exactly the same time. Harry raised an eyebrow, and Malfoy shrugged. "Bit obvious really, if you think about it. Father and Voldemort are best best friends. They have tea parties and go shopping and everything." Malfoy looked away and mumbled, "Pissed off I didn't know."

                Dumbledore, ignoring the comment, said, "Draco, I know I may be asking a lot here, but this is serious business. Are you sure you are willing…"

                "Yes." Draco looked set and determined, and Dumbledore nodded in understanding then carried on with plans and ideas. Harry frowned at this inaudible passing of understanding between the two that he didn't quite get, unsure what the two were talking about, but decided it was none of his business, and that he didn't really care. Whatever Draco Malfoy was about had nothing to do with him.

A/N: so….how are you my few but lovely readers? I hope you are well, and enjoying this story. I am getting into it again, you'll be glad to know. Before it was like a chore, having to rip out each chapter from my mind and not liking it but then putting it up on fanfiction anyway, because I know I can't write it any better – but the past two chapters were like, YAY  I  ENJOY  WRITING  AGAIN! :D REVIEW PLEEEEASE ~rowanx

By the way, I might not write anything else for a while. To this or to "acerbitas", my other fic. I just read a harry potter fic that was so great it would feel insulting if I tried to write one myself. I can't write anything to do with draco or harry, because they're portrayal in the story im reading is too amazing to fuck with. When I say a while, I promise it won't be too long. Just long enough so that I can forget about this other story. Thanks. ~rowanx


	25. Enemies Together

A/N: OH MY GOD! Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix! It was soo good! Is it just me, or is that the BEST book ever?! Ok, I'll try not to ramble so much (the death - :'( - so sad) but I just wanted to say that I'm not changing this story to adapt OotP. There's no point, and this is nearly finished anyway.

I wanna say thank you to The Elfin Child, who is pretty much the only reviewer I have now :D you're still reading this, so cheers! ~rowanx

Harry awoke on Saturday morning with a sickened feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could remember disturbing dreams. Green, and blue this time, lights from jinxes and curses were crossing his path and blocking the way. He'd had to dive and twist over them to get to what he was looking for. Except, when he'd managed to get past the rays, there was nothing there. He'd remembered a feeling of frustration. He'd gone all that way to find absolutely nothing at all.

                Before he'd had a chance to ponder over whether his dream has meant anything or not, he heard a light tapping at the window. Turning his head, he saw Hedwig standing patiently on the ledge outside the window. Harry stood up and yawned. He walked over to the window and let Hedwig in, stroking her back as she nibbled his ear. He took the letter that was attached to her leg and opened it up.

                _Potter – _

_                Meet me in the library. Now._

_ – Malfoy _

Harry frowned. What on earth would Draco want to see him about? And how had he got Hedwig to carry the message? Perhaps he didn't want Harry's roommates to recognise Draco's owl, carrying Harry a message. Harry looked around. Well he needn't have bothered; all of his friends were fast asleep in their beds apart from Ron, who was nowhere to be seen. Harry got dressed quickly and left the room. Hedwig flew outside. Seamus, Neville and Dean threw their bedcovers off and silently followed Harry from the room.

In the library Harry looked around, for the first time ever, searching for his enemy. He spotted him at a table by the dark arts section and frowned slightly. He walked over and sat down. Malfoy looked up from the book he'd been reading and put it down on the table when he saw Harry was there.

                When Malfoy didn't say anything, Harry decided to. "So? What did you want to see me about?"

                "Today's Saturday," Malfoy said.

                Harry pressed down the feeling of immense horror that was boiling up in him. He felt ashamed. Heroes weren't meant to get afraid. "What's your point, Malfoy?" he asked, sounding as though he couldn't care less.

                "What do you plan to do today?"

                Harry blinked. "Huh?" Why did Malfoy care – why was he _asking_?

                Malfoy smiled. "You understand English, Potter?"

                "Yes," Harry said angrily. "It's just you never seem to have cared before what I was doing unless it involved me, death, and a lot of pain…" Harry stopped abruptly. Malfoy held Harry's gaze and didn't blink. He drummed his fingers softly on the table. "So that's why you were asking," Harry said quietly. "You think I'm going to die tonight, don't you?" Malfoy didn't say anything. Harry frowned. "How are you so sure? I know Voldemort's –"

                "Best not to say his name in public, Potter."

                "– more powerful now," Harry said, continuing as though Malfoy hadn't interrupted him, "But he's still crazy and I still have the no-wand thing don't I?"

                Malfoy breathed in. "Maybe you're right Potter," he said, surprising them both, "But I still say, if you're alive tomorrow, I'll kiss the ground you walk on."

                Harry frowned and stood up. "Look, what did you want to talk to me about, Malfoy? 'Cause if all you wanted to do was remind me that my early death may be coming up, then I have better things I could be doing."

                Malfoy stood as well. "So then why did you meet me here?"

                "Because I thought that maybe for once you might have something worth while to say."

                Malfoy clicked his tongue. "Just so happens I do have something worth while to say," he said, mocking Harry. Harry frowned and crossed his arms. "Dumbledore asked me if I knew any short cuts into the Malfoy Mansion. I do. Dumbledore asked me to tell you them. I don't plan on doing that…"

                "Why??" Harry asked in astonishment. "I thought you were helping us!" he said angrily.

                Malfoy didn't rise to Harry's anger. In a quiet voice he said, "I am going to help you." He came around the edge of the table so that he was closer to Harry. "Just not in the way you wanted." Harry sat down, Malfoy next to him. "Look, Voldemort expects you to turn up with his lovely loyal puppy dog daughter tonight, right? And that's where he attacks, except you think you have the upper arm because you know the attacks coming." Malfoy held up a hand to stop Harry from interrupting. "Ok, Potter, maybe you have a bit of an upper arm, but not much of one. I want you to think about what would happen if instead of you waiting for Voldemort to attack you, you attacked him first."

                Harry narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?" he demanded quietly.

                "I'm talking about the brains you have but are too stupid to use!" Malfoy hissed quietly. "If we leave school now, go to the mansion _now_, Voldemort won't be ready for you!"

                "But, Dumbledore said…"

                "Fuck Dumbledore," Malfoy said.

                Harry frowned. "Watch it Malfoy."

                Malfoy sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You know, for someone who comes top in a lot of their classes you don't seem to be catching on to this very quickly."

                "I am catching on and I know what you are saying, but Dumbledore…"

                "Look, is this little thing between you and Dumbledore or you and Voldemort?" Harry remained quiet. Malfoy frowned. "Oh come on Potter! I want the bastard dead as much as you do! I know what wanting revenge feels like! Do you think the mudblood would have wanted you to…"

                Harry held out his hand and suddenly Malfoy had been slammed onto the floor. A few people in the library turned and gasped. "Don't you fucking talk about her like that Malfoy," Harry said dangerously quiet.

                He put his hand back to his side and slowly Malfoy got up, still evidently in pain. "Stupid asshole," he muttered, before turning to leave.

                Harry sat down again and the small crowd dispersed, disappointed at not getting a fight. Harry counted slowly to ten before he ran out of the library, hating Malfoy for always being right. When he'd caught up with him he put a hand on his shoulder. Malfoy turned around and moved back a bit, apparently surprised at the connection. After a moment's worth of glaring, Harry said, "You're right."

                Malfoy smiled, but not in a pleasant way. "Good boy," he muttered.

                Harry glared. "Look, are you going to help me out with the mansion plans or not?"

                "Help?" repeated Malfoy. His smile vanished. "I'm not going to just _help _you. I'm going with you."

Dean, Seamus and Neville sat up as they heard Ron approaching. They grinned. "Alright?" called Seamus, propping himself up onto his elbows.

                "Yep," Ron answered, and extended his hand. In it was a broom – one unlike any the boys had seen before in their life. With silent appreciation they all gathered around Ron, admiring the broom. It was a Takilees 5000, the latest model of a broomstick yet, going as fast as the rider wills it to and cutting corners so finely you would have thought it was bendy.

                Ron grinned. "Harry is sure to love this."

                "I hope it gets him in a better mood," said Neville glumly, "After costing us a fortune…"

                "He'll love it," Ron said defiantly. "Quidditch is the only sure thing he can rely on. The only thing he's sure won't cause him pain."

                Seamus, Neville and Dean remained quiet. They had never heard Ron talk about Harry like this. Seamus coughed to break the mood. "So, um, was there a queue at all in the Quidditch shop?"

                "Nope," Ron replied. "I don't expect many people could afford it."

                "Hey guys." The boys turned to see Lavender and Parvati walking towards them.

                "A little late, aren't we?" said Seamus.

                "Probably spending loads of time doing their make up," Dean muttered.

                Parvati glared at him. "We were in the library, for your information."

                "On a Saturday?" Ron exclaimed. "What were you doing in _there_?"

                "Returning a book," Parvati said coolly.

                Lavender bit her lip. "Um, Ron, we saw Harry in there."

                Ron looked only mildly interested. "Yeah? So?"

                "He was sitting with – with Malfoy."

                Ron frowned and grew still. "What were they doing?" asked Seamus. "Fighting again?"

                "No," Lavender said shaking her head. "They were talking."

                "Angrily?" Dean tried.

                "Civilly."

                "Woah," said Seamus. "that's weird."

                A worried look had spread across Ron's face. Only Lavender and Neville had noticed. "Ron, you alright?" asked Neville.

                "They're planning something," Ron whispered. He sped up to the castle and with one glance at each other, the others ran after him.

After searching the library, the great hall, the dormitory, the common room, the library again, Hagrid's hut, and the quidditch field, Ron came to the conclusion that Harry wasn't in the castle. "Shit," he said, after they'd got to the common room and had yet again found nothing.

                "Ron, where is he?" asked Lavender worriedly.

                "I don't know," Ron lied.

                "Yes you do," she said challengingly.

                He gave her such a terrifying look that Lavender shut up immediately. "Yes, I do have some idea of where he is but it's got nothing to do with you, alright?" he snapped.

                "Why hasn't it got anything to do with us?" asked Dean. "We're Harry's friends as well as you. We're just as worried about him as you are."

                Ron rubbed his forehead. "Look, I haven't got time for this. I have to find Dumbledore." He turned to leave the common room.

                "It's got something to do with you-know-who, hasn't it?" Neville called out loudly. Ron turned round and said nothing. "Look Ron, if Harry's gone after him, we have to go help him, not just run to Dumbledore." Everyone fell silent. No one had heard Neville speak so defiantly before. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Neville cut across him. "Ron, my parents were tortured by You-Know-Who's death eaters. They're still alive, but at times it feels like they're not. They barely recognise me."

                Ron gasped in horror. "Oh my god," said Lavender. "Neville I'm so sorry."

                Neville shrugged. "We've all been affected by him at some stage or another. This isn't just about Harry, it's about all of us, and he's not going to do it alone."

                "True," Ron said eventually. "He's got Malfoy."

                There was a pause, before Seamus said, "Malfoy? What does Malfoy have to do with anything? Why the hell would Harry need Malfoy's help?"

                Ron looked awkward. He had to tell them now. There was no way he couldn't. And the original plan was that Dumbledore and the rest of them would be there as back up, to go in if Harry got hurt, and he didn't have that now. Neville was right; Harry was going to need their help.

                "Fine," Ron said reluctantly, giving in, "I'll tell you."

A/N: I apologise loads for the crappy chapter, but I promise the next one should be good. I mean, it WILL be good!! lol. And I know this chapter was pretty short, but I had to leave it like this, 'cause the next chapter's gonna be pretty important and stufffffffffff. Should be quite good. lol. Don't have much faith in myself, do I?! READ AND REVIEW PLEASE ~rowanx


	26. Riddles

A/N:

Is *anyone* still reading this story?

Well, if you are – 

I'M BACK!!!!

*fireworks sound*

hehe.

So, yeah, I hate abandoning stories, and my muse has FINALLY!!!!! (after four months of paaain) returned to me, my beautiful, beautiful muse. So, anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. This story is very nearly finished – WHOOO. This will probably be the second last chapter I think. Unless I do like an epiloguey thing.

Sorry this is short, but I wanted to split it into two chapters (mainly because I'm cruel like that :D ).

Please review and give me cookies.

~rowanx

**Chapter 26**

**Riddles**

"I can't believe I let you come," Harry muttered.

                "And I can't believe you still own a crappy firebolt 3000," Malfoy shot back. "You really should really get the new model – a Takilees 5000," he boasted, patting his new broomstick as they flew through the air side by side. "It'll be the only way to beat me at our next match."

                "Talent is what'll help me beat you, Malfoy, as it always does," Harry said dryly. "Look, are we nearly there? We've been flying for hours now."

                Malfoy yawned in annoyance. "Patience is a virtue, Potter. Yes we're nearly there, stop complaining."

                "I think I'm allowed to complain in my last few hours alive," Harry said joking wryly.

                Malfoy looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. "I prefer to spend it free of whining," he said. "But do what you want to do."

                Harry was quiet for a moment before saying, "Is your father going to be angry?"

                "Angry?" Malfoy scorned. "He's fucking pissed. Already is 'cause I didn't want to join his gang of evil. Bastard," he muttered. "I'm going to kill him. That is, if he doesn't kill me first."

                "Your father would kill you?" Harry asked shocked. "Just because you wouldn't join Voldemort?"

                Malfoy didn't answer, instead he looked to the sky and the thunderstorms ahead. "It's going to rain," he commented, dodging Harry's question. Harry didn't press him. In Malfoy's face he saw fear he never expected to ever see on his enemy's face. He wondered if Malfoy was telling the truth. Would his father kill him? Was anyone so heartless towards their only son? "You see down there?" Malfoy continued, pointing towards a clump of trees that from their distance up in the sky looked like a small gathering but as they neared Harry saw it was more a huge forest.

                "Malfoy Manor is in that forest?" Harry asked bewildered.

                "No, but that's where we're landing," Malfoy explained. "We can't fly directly to the Manor, it would be too obvious."

                Harry wanted to ask how they were going to get there, but the sudden air force on him as they plummeted towards the forest was too much and he didn't think Malfoy would be able to hear him if he spoke anyway. Approaching the trees, Harry jumped off of his broom and fell through the leaves landing on a branch. He saw Malfoy do the same and the two boys swiftly climbed down the tree, their broomsticks in hand. Landing on the ground with a soft pat, Harry looked around him. There was no one about, no sign of any life. "So," he said, "What direction are we going in?"

                Malfoy looked around and walked over to a tree. Staring at it for a moment, he pointed to the left of him. "This way," he said.

                "How do you know?" asked Harry, amazed at Malfoy's great sense of direction.

                Malfoy shrugged. "I don't really. Just a guess. I was hoping that if I stared at a tree for a while you might think that I was picking up some old boy scout's thing."

                Harry sighed. "So in other words, we're lost?"

                "No, not lost. I know we're in this forest, and I know that somewhere on the other side of this forest is Malfoy Manor. Thus, we're not lost, we just don't know where to go," he pointed out stupidly.

                Harry frowned. The two walked on in Malfoy's random direction, hoping that they were going in the right direction. The trees around bristled in the breeze, and the leaves and acorns that littered the forest floor crunched softly underneath Harry's feet as he walked beside Malfoy for what must have been the first time ever. As they walked on in the soft heat of midday, Harry began to get a head ache. Assuming it was the heat he brushed it aside, not caring, but as time went on it began hurting more and more and he wandered if it was his scar hurting rather than his head.

                "You should tell Malfoy," Hermione said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Harry looked at her and saw the worry in her face. "It could be serious. Maybe Malfoy knows something about this forest he should have told you." Harry raised an eyebrow enquiringly. Hermione sighed impatiently. "Look, we haven't seen any wildlife so far, don't you think that's strange for a forest of this capacity? And now your scar's hurting – maybe there's some evil in this forest."

                Harry turned to Malfoy. "My scar hurts," he said simply, sounding stupid as soon as he said it.

                "So? What do you want me to do about it?" Malfoy said uncaringly, not looking at Harry. "Go whinge to Pomfrey, not me."

                "Malfoy, is there something about this forest you're not telling me?"

                There was a slight pause before Malfoy said, "Like what?"

                "Like evil." Malfoy almost stopped walking but then continued on at a brisk pace. Harry walked on beside him, refusing to turn his eyes away from his enemy's face until he got an answer.

                "Ok, fine," said Malfoy, still not looking at Harry. "This forest belongs to my father. I guess it does have evil in it, he uses it to practice his darkest spells..."

                "So that's why we haven't seen any animals..." Harry muttered, not sure if he was talking to himself, Malfoy or Hermione. Everyone listened though. Hermione nodded her head triumphantly, once again loving that she'd been right. Malfoy nodded his head seeming almost impressed by Harry's observation skills.

                They carried on walking until Harry got the feeling they'd never find their way out of the forest.

                "Malfoy."

                Draco stopped and turned. "Yes?"

                "Wait a minute." Harry closed his eyes and focused on the trees around him. Weaving his mind in and out of the trees he held out his hand, feeling around for the manor. Suddenly a block hit his hand and he swivelled round. Opening his eyes he pointed towards a clearing in the trees. "It's this way," Harry said faintly.

                Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, what did you just do?"

                "I have no idea," said an honestly bewildered Harry. "But, I looked through the trees with my hands and felt the manor underneath them and my arm turned me round to the right direction."

                Malfoy's eyes were wide. "Wow. I didn't know you could do that?"

                "Neither did I," muttered Harry as the two boys made their way towards the manor.

Cassandra watched as a wave of broomsticks rose into the air. Silently, she crept out from behind her hiding place and, with a click of her fingers, vanished.

After just twenty minutes of walking, Harry reached the end of the trees and looked out to the marvellous clearing in which Malfoy Manor stood. Draco's house really did look like it was straight out of a horror movie. It was a huge grey castle-like building, with hundreds of windows and turrets running along the top. Along the ground around the outside of the house were deadly-looking plants, creeping and curling around.

                Harry turned round to look at Malfoy who simply sighed in an annoyed kind of way. "Come on let's get this over with."

                It was Harry's turn to be sarcastic now. " 'Let's get this over with'? We're facing death and you just want to get it done? Well that's nicely optimistic."

                Malfoy walked past Harry without a word and stormed up to the Manor doors. A thought came to Harry and he ran up to Malfoy. "Wait," he said, having to walk pretty fast to keep up with Malfoy's angry pace. "Voldemort will know I'm here, aren't there spells we could…"

                They had reached the Manor and Draco got out a key and unlocked the front doors, swinging them open.

                Harry was silenced. He gaped at Malfoy for a moment. "You have _got to be kidding me."_

                Draco smirked. "Yeah, well, Voldemort's intellect isn't quite what it used to be in his mad old age. And I didn't sense my father being here. If he were in this building, we would know."

                "Well, Voldemort's definitely here," Harry said. After getting over his shock of how easy it had been to enter the manor, he realised his scar was killing him. "So, what do we do now?"

                "You ready for it?"

                "Ready for what?"

                Malfoy looked to the ceiling and then to the stairs as an indication that Voldemort was probably up there. Harry's heart was racing, his scar was throbbing, and Hermione was squeezing his hand so tightly he thought it would break. The two boys edged towards the stairs and Harry, realising how useless it was to be quiet, thinking about how powerful his and Voldemort's connection was, pelted up the stairs, wand in hand, ready to attack full on.

                At the top of the stairs he let go of his love's hand and turned around like a mad man, adrenaline pumping through him. He could hear Voldemort's voice inside his head, calling Harry to him. Harry went on impulse and ran up the next flight of stairs, sensing Malfoy close behind. At the top of the stairs was one doorway, and another flight running up. Harry banged the doorway open and immediately reached behind to pull Draco and himself to the floor. A beam of light flew past their heads and they straightened up and ran into the room, side by side, wand by wand.

                Voldemort laughed. "How did I guess?" he said with a smirk. "Malfoy and Potter. Oh won't your daddy be pleased, Draco?"

                "He better bloody be," Malfoy said darkly. "I went to all this trouble to piss him off, if he isn't there'll be hell to pay."

                Harry bit on his lip. He was trembling, and tried hard not to close his eyes with all the pain that was throbbing in them. His scar was burning his forehead, being so close to Voldemort and feeling the thick, repulsive evil in the air around him.

                "Come on then, Tommy," Harry said, feeling dark himself. "Let's finish this, shall we? I think the feeling's mutual when I say we've been playing around for too long."

                Voldemort stared straight at Harry. "Finally ready to face me this time, Potter? Not going to run away behind your precious Dumbledore this time?"

                "Shut up," Harry said. He looked at Malfoy and smiled. "Can we just get this over with?" he directed at Voldemort. Malfoy also had the craziness to smile back at his enemy.

                Looking back at Voldemort, he could tell the old man was confused as to why Harry wasn't breaking down with fear like he had done in the past. Shaking his hooded head, he said, "And what is it exactly you want to get over and done with?"

                Harry didn't like the superior tone in Voldemort's voice that he could hear. "I found your pathetic little mirror," Harry said, trying to get his confidence back. "'The blood will not stop, the pain shall go on, 'till the heir to the light, shall step forward and fight'. Well I'm here, and I'm ready for you, so don't pretend one of us isn't going to die here today."

                "Oh I'm not pretending anything. I know you may die today. But I certainly shan't." Harry glanced at Malfoy and Voldemort laughed.

                "Harry! Draco?" All three men looked towards the door in shock as Cassandra's sweet voice drifted through.

                Malfoy was the first to turn away, with disgust; Harry just looked to the floor, weighing things over. Voldemort stepped forward. "Cassandra, my dearest."

                "Father…" Cassandra had obviously already guessed that Harry knew the truth; she looked at him with a strange pleading in her eyes.

                Harry couldn't even look at her. He turned to Voldemort. "Well? Now you're loyal daughter's here, can we fight now?"

                "We?" Voldemort rose to his full height. "We aren't going to do anything."

                "But…"

                "You stupid boy. Now that I have Cassandra, it's not my place to fight such a pathetic young boy."

                Harry's eyes widened and he felt both Malfoy and Cassandra be hit with the implications in Voldemort's voice.

                "But…the mirror…it said, the heir…"

                Voldemort smiled. "As much as I hate you, Harry Potter, it is no longer my place to fight you. For what you have done to me, I will certainly have a hand in the final strike against you. But now that Cassandra has turned eighteen, she is the one true heir to Slytherin. She is who you'll be fighting."

                Harry turned and stared at Cassandra. "…You?"

~ ~

(ps, wasn't I just *so* clever with the title? Like, riddles as in the family, and riddles as in the parseltongue on the back of the mirror, type thing? Yes, go me with my ultimosity in play on words.)

(pps, I haven't read through this, because I just wanna get it up, so sorry for all the mistakes. Feel free to point them out to me in YOUR REVIEWS and I'll go back and change it. … maybe.)


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